SilverFish
by a-silver-story
Summary: Completely AU. Basically, Janto in prison with plot. Be warned, it is M for a reason. M/M. Nominated for Children of Time Awards.
1. Chapter 1

**SilverFish **

**Disclaimer: Everything recognisable to either Torchwood or the Whoniverse belongs to Russell T. Davies and the BBC. Had I to owned any of the characters borrowed from the Whoniverse, I'd have given them to Steven Moffat by now.**

The best thing about the whole trip was that the windows were blacked out.

While it did stop people from the outside looking in, for this particular vehicle it also stopped the occupants of the van from seeing out. And Ianto didn't want to see out. His freedom was zipping past from urban jungle to expanses of fields and rolling hills, giving way to the intimidating and imposing silhouette of the gaol and carrying him closer and closer to his fate.

The judge's voice still echoed through the courtroom in his memory: guilty, six years imprisonment. Less for good behaviour.

Ianto had honestly expected a 'not guilty' verdict - he was, after all, innocent - so having the jury glare at him so disdainfully and vote him into prison was like a punch in the gut. No - worse than that. A knee in the _balls_.

His sister, Rhiannon , had shrieked like a banshee as Yvonne Hartman, the Bitch in Black, had smirked and made her way out of the courtroom. Ianto had stared, watching her walk out through the doors as he stood frozen in the dock, a guard beside him to cuff his wrists and lead him to the van waiting outside.

Ianto climbed in and sagged in his seat as the engine grumbled into life and the cabin lurched with the momentum of them moving forward. The guard had accompanied him into the back, since only one out of the three possible travellers that day had actually been convicted. Ianto sighed and put his head in his hands. His _cuffed_ hands.

The guard with him - _supervising him_ - was called Officer Williams , though he insisted on 'Rhys'. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, trying to make conversation and 'ease him into the way of things', as Rhys put it. Ianto wasn't really in the mood to chat, and didn't really respond to much of he was saying beyond grunts and 'mmm's. In the end, it was Rhys talking about his future housemates that brought him into conversation.

"... you're going to C Wing, which is probably both our noisiest and quietest lot. They have their ups and downs, y'know?"

"How so?" asked Ianto, and Rhys looked a little startled at gaining a response.

"They're ... sorta split down the middle. Two groups, and each group is like a family, and they sorta ... hate each other. A lot. They go through civil phases, and everything's fine. But then something little will start off a while new feud and ... well ... it can get ugly."

Ianto stared at him wide-eyed. "You're throwing me into a gang war?"

"No, no, no!" Rhys assured him nervously. "It's more ... Montagues and Capulets."

Ianto's eyes went a little wider. "They spent most of the play _killing_ each other!"

"You'll be fine!" Rhys assured him. "Things are a little quiet at the moment, so you can let your group pick you and just ... fit in until things get ... aggravated. You'll be fine," he repeated. "As long as you know what you're going into."

"What am I going into?" asked Ianto.

"It's like Mods and Rockers. You can tell who's side who is on from how they're wearing the uniform. Neat and tidy: Saxon. Top half of the jumpsuit unfastened slung low: Torchwood."

"Which gang gets in the least trouble?"

"They're as bad as each other, really," sighed Rhys. "But whichever one picks you will look after you. You look like a quiet one, so they'll guard you close."

"What if neither of them pick me?" Ianto worried.

"Don't worry - they both need numbers. It's all playground politics really, an no ones been seriously hurt for months now."

Ianto's eyes went wide again, and Rhys laughed nervously again. They fell quiet for a while, listening to the rumble of the van moving further and further away from the city.

"Who should I watch out for, would you think?"

"If you're a Saxon, look out for Alex , Hart and Handsome Jack . If you're Torchwood, look out for Saxon , Unit and Greyhound. And Lumic. He may be in a chair, but he's dangerous."

Ianto gulped.

Rhys fell silent again, probably realising he wasn't being as reassuring as he hoped he was. He could probably see that Ianto wasn't really 'prison' material, and most probably pitied him. For another half-hour, they travelled on quietly, not speaking to each other. Finally, Ianto could hear the sound of gravel crunching under wheels and the voices of security guards checking credentials. The back door was flung open to reveal two formidable women in guard uniform.

Rhys climbed out first, Ianto close, behind, and was lead into a room with a wooden counter for the women to stand behind as well as a medical examination table and screen in the corner. There was a dark haired doctor stood by it, waiting for him.

The women assumed their positions behind the counter, one of them filling out forms as Rhys introduced Ianto via his prisoner number and a sharp, "Jones, I." He shuddered, as he was introduced to Doctor Milligan and told to get behind the screen and take off his clothes. He was poked, prodded and strip-searched (inside and out) to make sure he wasn't smuggling anything in and to check he was fit and healthy. Satisfied, Ianto was handed a grey jumpsuit, a white t-shirt, y-fronts, socks and trainers. He pulled them all on disdainfully.

The female officers were named Officer Guppy and Officer Holroyd , and they held themselves with the distinct air of 'do not cross me'. Paperwork complete, Guppy turned to Rhys. "Take him through, Williams," she commanded, and Rhys took Ianto's upper arm and guided him out of the room, giving him a clear plastic bag containing toiletries, socks, a change of clothes and a towel.

He was led through gates and reinforced doors until they finally found themselves stood on the edge of a large room filled with tables and chairs - a canteen - with a high, vaulted ceiling and balconies and walkways lining the outer sides, leading to the cells. The stairs were metal and rickety-looking, and the army of grey jumpsuit filling the hall was occasionally punctured by the black and white of the guards.

A hush went around the room, and a silence fell like a blanket on all but two tables. The occupants of the two tables muttered between themselves, and Ianto could see the difference between the two halves of the hall they represented clearly. The ones on the right were Saxons, clearly, with their close-cut hair, jumpsuits fastened to the neck and generally neater and smarter appearance. Torchwood, on the left hand side, seemed to lounge rather than sit, with their jumpsuits unbuttoned to the waist or the top-halves slung down with the sleeves tied around their middles as Rhys had described.

A couple around the Torchwood table were giving him doubtful looks, and Ianto could see they were probably going to hand him - already looking quite neat, and already with close-cut hair - over to the Saxons, whom Rhys seemed to hint was full of the more insane and dangerous types.

Eventually, the muttering on the left hand table stopped, a grey-haired man shrugging at the tanned man beside him who had turned so that Ianto couldn't really see his face. He glanced over at the Saxon table, and the man who seemed in charge there stood. "Name?" was all he asked.

Rhys cleared his throat. "This is Jones. Ianto Jones. You play nice, boys, okay? Make him feel welcome?"

The Saxon nodded. "I'm Harry Saxon. C'mere and meet the lads," he offered, indicating a vacant seat opposite him and a little to the right.

Ianto was about to step towards them, when he glanced back at the Torchwood table. The tanned man had turned around, and instantly Ianto knew that this was definitely 'Handsome Jack'. He didn't need to be bicurious to know that this was most probably the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. He nearly kicked himself: he wasn't at home now. He shouldn't think things like that any more.

His eyes were drawn to Handsome Jack's face, and their gazes locked. The other man's gaze was blue and piercing, weighing him up, assessing him. Handsome Jack turned back to the grey-haired man beside him, whom Ianto assumed must be 'Alex', and said something quietly as Ianto began walking over to the Saxon table, trying to shake off the shiver he'd suddenly felt run through him.

A deep, Scottish accented voice called out, "There's more room at our table," and Ianto froze, turning back. The grey-haired man had spoken, making the offer, and Handsome Jack had turned again to watch proceedings. The corners of his mouth quirked into an almost-smirk as Ianto caught him looking at him, and Ianto bit his lip, unsure what to do. He glanced over to Rhys, who looked just as confused as he was.

Apparently, no one had been offered a place in both of the two gangs before, and now Ianto was landed with a choice that could wind him up in the hospital wing. _Fucking wonderful_, Ianto groaned inwardly.

"Our table's closer," offered Saxon. There was a titter of laughter around him.

"Our table is worth the extra meter," shrugged Alex.

"Our table is better dressed," countered Saxon, and there was a murmur of discontent from the Torchwood side.

Rhys cleared his throat. "Now, now, boys. No need to arg-"

A voice from the back of the Torchwood side called out: "Our table won't stab you in the showers and leave you to bleed to death!"

"I told you," Saxon smirked, speaking loud so all could hear. "Greg cut his _own_ femoral artery."

"Like hell he did!" replied the voice.

Ianto swallowed.

"Our table," continued Saxon. "will take care of you and stop one of that lot getting you alone in the showers."

"OOooooooo!" sang a bunch of voices, and another murmur of malcontent ran through Torchwood.

"We already assured him it's your lot that are less shower-friendly," replied Alex, coolly, his accent thickening slightly. Handsome Jack spoke with him again, and he nodded.

"What do you want him for anyway?" snapped Saxon. "Look at him: he's clearly one of us."

Alex turned to Handsome Jack again, and they had a whispered and harried discussion. A blue-eyed man with dark curls leant forward to volunteer an opinion. Eventually, Handsome Jack threw his hands up in exasperation, and stood as Saxon had done.

"Maybe we want to save him from the lies, deceit and back-stabbing that is synonymous with _your lot_."

Ianto was surprised - when the man spoke, his accent was American, his voice deep and lilting. He supposed it made the 'tan and perfect teeth' thing less out-of-place. He glanced between the two tables again, unsure.

"Kid," called Handsome Jack. "Seriously. They'll do you no good."

Ianto searched the faces of the - what? The Torchies? - watching him, and then turned to the Saxons. He spotted a young man, about his age, sat quite close to Saxon and staring at him almost imploringly. Ianto made eye-contact, and the young man shook his head almost minutely, almost as if he was begging Ianto not to sit with them.

Ianto took a deep breath. If there were more psychos on Saxon's team, that's where he wanted to be. Then the psychos wouldn't come after him. But the Torchies seemed ... happier. More relaxed. Alex discussed with his people - Saxon went ahead and made his own decisions.

"I ... I don't know ..." Ianto eventually mumbled, and raised his eyes to meet that blue gaze again. Handsome Jack smiled softly, reassuringly, stepping away from his chair and a little closer to Ianto. Ianto could have sworn those blue eyes slid down to his lips and back up again, and he realised why Handsome Jack was so keen to have him on side.

Before Ianto could register what his legs were doing, he was backing up a little. He collided straight into the solid form of Saxon, who had left his own seat to come and stand behind him, creating a stand off.

"Back off, Harkness," Saxon murmured, threatening.

Handsome Jack - Harkness - drew himself up to his full height. "Why? What do _you_ want with him?" he challenged, repeating Saxon's question from earlier. Two Torchies - both with dark hair, and both skinny - came up behind him and flanked him either side, wingmen to stop a fight.

"Leave it, Jack," one of them murmured, cockney by the sounds of it.

"Rip him to pieces," the other one goaded, blue-eyed, high-cheekboned and curly-haired - the one who had leaned into the hushed discussions moments ago. He, too was handsome, if a little more weathered than Jack. Shorter, but just as threatening.

And Jack was, now, threatening. His kind demeanour was lost, and he was spoiling for a fight, his shoulders and jaw set tight as he glowered at Saxon. Ianto found himself cowering sightly, even though the rage wasn't directed at him.

The guards were watching from the sidelines, apparently watching happily and not really going to do anything about the impending fight.

Ianto sighed. He was going to have to end this before it started - by picking a side. Brilliant - and whichever side he didn't pick would have a vendetta against him for not picking it. From what he could tell, Torchwood seemed like the braun. He wouldn't mind hiding behind them, he decided - especially when the braun was, on the whole, much better looking than the possible brains.

With a sigh, he set his plastic bag of things down opposite Alex on the Torchwood table, and Alex gave him an almost fatherly smile. "Jack, Owen , John!" he called, and the three men facing Saxon turned to their names, though Ianto had yet to figure which was Owen and which was John.

Saxon shot him a death glare before returning to his seat, muttering darkly with those around him. Handsome Jack didn't return to the table, and instead gave Ianto a curt nod before turning on his heel and making his way towards the metal stairs. Ianto watched his progress a little way further than would most likely be normal, but was brought back to his current surroundings by the return of Owen and John - in anonymous order - to the table.

"I'm Alex," began Alex. "this is Owen, and this is John," he said, indicating the cockney then the handsome, blue-eyed one. "Captain Jack has ... buggered off somewhere. This is Archie, another Scot, and that's everyone else ..." He made a gesture to encompass the entire Torchwood side of the building. "Saxon and Unit - real name Oduya - are the ones to avoid. And don't get in the way of Lumic. He may be in a chair, but he's one evil motherfucker. Your cell mate can explain the rest."

"Who ... who is my cell mate?" asked Ianto.

Alex shrugged.

"Jack wanted him," huffed Owen. "Stick him with him."

"Er - he already has a cell mate?" pointed out John.

"You're leaving in two months anyway," shrugged Owen. "At least like this he'll definitely still be with Torchwood rather than a Saxon. Unless, of course, there's a special and specific reason why you'd want to stay in Jack's cell, John?" asked Owen, a sly sideways glance and smile finding their way to John.

John glowered at him in response.

"That's sorted then," Alex grinned, oblivious to what Ianto could quite clearly see being passed between Owen and John. Was something going on between John and Jack? They didn't seem ... 'The' type. Maybe it was one-sided. Ianto hoped it was one-sided, though he wasn't going to admit to himself just yet why. "John - you can move in with Owen. I think six weeks is too long for the good doctor to have his own cell. Ianto can go under Jack's wing."

"... more like under Jack ..." muttered John darkly, getting up from his seat and heading off in the direction Handsome Jack had left in. Ianto felt himself pink. He had no intention of ... of ... definitely not. Well, maybe. He had always been curious about ... but no. Not in here.

Owen looked taken aback. "I was only joking, Alex!"

Alex shrugged. "I think it'd be good for them."

"John's leaving in-"

"I know. But those two really have pushed it beyond the pail. Screws were planning on splitting them up anyway."

"But ..."

There was an electronic buzz through the PA, and Ianto jumped slightly, much to the amusement of the people around him.

"C'mon," sighed Owen. "Playtime, New Boy."

Ianto followed Alex and Owen as they got up and began to traipse with the rest of the crowd towards re-enforced double doors and metal gates at the back of the canteen. He was a little jostled by the crowd, and at one point would have been lost if Owen hadn't reached out and pulled him back in by his sleeve.

There was a loud bang of a door slamming overhead, and the crowd paused to look up to the topmost walkway along the cells. Nothing much happened for a few moments, then John appeared, marching nonchalantly down the row to another cell.

"Jack didn't take the news well, then," Owen muttered to Alex, just within Ianto's earshot.

"He'll get over it," shrugged Alex.

Owen bit his lip, folding his arms as the crowd began to move again. "Put the kid in my cell, Alex. Really," he tried.

"Jack wanted him - you said so yourself."

"I didn't think you'd split him and John up though - they're a pair. They go together. I mean ... you wouldn't split up Holmes and Watson, would you?"

"Jack and John are troublemakers," sighed Alex. "I think splitting them up will do Torchwood some good."

"Are you going to ban them from playing with each other, too?" asked Owen, sarcasm dripping through his tone.

"Splitting them up gives them less chance to plot and scheme and stew together."

"You're incurring the wrath of His Harkness," sighed Owen as they approached the exit to the exercise yard. "We're all going to suffer for it. Especially the new kid."

Ianto gulped so loudly that Owen turned and gave him a sharp look.

"What did you hear?" he demanded.

"Erm ... the birds swaying and the trees singing?" he offered, unsure what words were tumbling out of his mouth.

Owen blinked, then narrowed his eyes, then smiled. "That's about right."

Ianto yelped as he was suddenly shoved, stumbling and falling to his knees. There was cajoling and laughter, that died a little too suddenly for Ianto's comfort. He hissed as his knees burned, and looked up to find the crowd had stopped to watch again, just inside the building. Ianto found that Handsome Jack had returned from his cell, and had been making his way through the crowd when Ianto had been shoved. He was now squared up to a Saxon twice the size he was, though he could glower with twice the intimidating force despite smaller stature.

Owen was helping Ianto back to his feet, then going to stand by Jack. John appeared at his other side, and Ianto watched with the rest of the crowd as Alex groaned quietly.

"In a hurry, Oduya?" growled Jack.

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"What for? The exercise yard is gonna be there for the next seven years," shrugged Jack, and Oduya twitched. "What's the rush?"

"Unit!" barked a voice, and the crowd parted as Harry Saxon pushed his way through. "Ah ... Handsome Jack. Causing trouble again, are we?"

Jack gave a laugh, and turned to Saxon. Oduya (or 'Unit') was now staring down John, and eventually slunk back into the crowd. "I wanna make it clear, Saxon," Jack began. "Jones is under my protection, and if any of your guys touch him they're gonna find themselves-"

"Harkness!" barked a female voice, and John audibly groaned. Officers Guppy and Holroyd appeared, looking menacing. "What's the hold up?"

Owen made a disgruntled sound. "Saxons started it. They pushed whatsisface ... New Boy ... and Jack was marking his ground. You didn't write up Davies for it yesterday," he shrugged.

"Davies doesn't have the reputation to be written up," snapped Guppy.

"Oh _what_?" snapped John, and he and Jack exchanged dark looks. Guppy was already pulling out her notebook, uncapping her pen and thinking about what to write. Saxons were smirking to each other, and Officer Guppy gave them a pointed look.

"I don't know what you boys are smirking at," she glared, and their smiles vanished under her gaze. She scribbled some more in her notebook. "One more warning, Harkness, and you're in isolation. Understand? Same for you, Hart; Harper. This is a word-of-mouth warning to you, Jones."

Ianto felt his mouth open and close a few times. In the end he just settled on a 'Yes, ma'am'.

"Carry on!" Guppy commanded, and the crowd began moving again. Owen tried to say something to Jack, but he strode away and pushed himself forcefully through the crowd, not looking at Ianto when he passed him and disappearing into the throng.

Being jostled, he started moving again towards the exit, aware that he'd lost Alex and couldn't see Owen or John anywhere. He decided to bear left, into the thick of the Torchwood crowd, consciously unbuttoning the front of his jumpsuit a little way to try and fit in a bit better and look less like the opposing team.

A hand grabbed his sleeve, and he spun, shaking it off and finding Owen and John behind him.

"Don't wander off, New Boy. You'll get yourself cornered," John half sighed, half chastised.

"Stop calling me that," scowled Ianto.

"But .. you _are_ the New Boy ..." pointed out Owen.

John smirked. "What would you prefer to be called?"

"Ianto will do fine. Two syllables - pretty easy. If you can't quite manage that, there's always 'Jones' ..."

John cocked an eyebrow, then pulled on Owen's sleeve like a child. "I like Eye-Candy. Owen, can we call him 'Eye-Candy'?"

"You can, John. I'm not feeling so inclined."

Ianto knew his face was probably contorted with disgust. "You can't call me that!"

John's expression turned serious. "You gave us cheek - you expect us to let that go?"

"You were calling me 'New Boy'."

"Because you _are_ the New Boy. Or ... rather ... were. Now, you're Eye-Candy."

Ianto snapped his mouth shut and turned on his heel, and John and Owen made similar exasperated sounds.

"Don't _wander off_!" John repeated, pulling him back by his wrist. They were finally outside and the crowd was dispersing as everyone grouped off to do whatever it is they did while outside. "Owen: keep your eye on him. I'll find Jack."

Owen was about to protest, but John darted off. "C'mon then, Wales. Let's find the others."

"Wales?" Ianto repeated.

"Do you prefer Eye-Candy?"

"Why don't you just call me 'Ianto'? It's my name."

"For the first couple of weeks we'll try and find a nickname for you. Something that highlights an attribute, or something that brings attention to a flaw to show you're not frightened of it."

"What's your nickname?"

"I'm just Doctor Harper. Or 'The Good Doctor'."

"Creative."

Owen gave a small laugh, then pointed to a patch of grass by an asphalt basketball court where a bunch of Torchwood men were lounging either on a picnic bench or the grass itself. Others were on the court, stood in a huddle as they decided teams to play. Owen lead him towards the table, but there was only room enough for one to sit so Ianto was told to sit on the grass.

He ran the blades through his fingers, little buttercups sprouting around him, and he watched as the basketball game began. He didn't really understand the rules, and now that he was sat still the chilly wind was going straight to his bones. Quickly he got bored, and instead started listening to what was going on and being said around him. Most of it was about the game, or gossip he didn't yet understand, so he leant back on his hands to get a better view of the entire exercise yard.

He quickly spotted Saxon, sat at a table and benches on the other side, and as he moved his gaze he saw John and Handsome Jack sat on the grass by one of the shorter edges of the basketball court. Jack both sat with one knee bent and one leg extended before him, looking relaxed as he chatted with a cross-legged John, habitually shredding blades of grass between his fingers as he said something that made Jack laugh.

Ianto looked down at his hands, then raised his head to look up at the endless sky above him just as a red and black butterfly decided to flutter just out of reach. Ianto watched it as it flew a hairpin, doubling back on itself and gliding towards him. He leant back a little to stop its wings brushing his nose.

"Too late in the season for you," he muttered to it as it drifted on, looping and heading upwards, the diving and soaring. Ianto tracked its progress, following it with his eyes and head until it disappeared. His focus shifted, and he could see Jack and John playfighting, punching each other's arms and stomachs as they sat on the grass and laughing.

Ianto sighed. He wished he had a friend. Scanning his surroundings again, he realised he was the only one who seemed to be sat on his own and felt even lonelier. He also noticed a group of Saxons stood in a huddle, muttering to one another and casting dark looks in the direction of Jack and John, who were obliviously chatting and laughing again. Ianto didn't have to be a genius to work out they were planning something, and something that would most likely get Jack and John in trouble, or at least be rather unpleasant for them.

Glancing up at Owen, who was absorbed in conversation with Alex at the table, Ianto started to get up. No one stopped him, so he made his way over to where Jack and John were sitting. They abruptly stopped chatting, and Ianto felt awkward, asking if he could sit.

"Sure," shrugged John, and Ianto sat next to him.

"Those Saxons over there," Ianto nodded in the direction of the group. "They're planning something for you. See how they keep looking over, thinking they're being subtle?"

Jack and John both managed surreptitious glances, moments before a couple of the group decided to make their way towards them.

"C'mon," sighed Jack, speaking more to John than Ianto, and he started getting up. John and Ianto followed suit, and Jack lead them over to the bench where Alex, Owen and a few others were sat. Owen looked up at them as they approached, then down at the patch of grass where Ianto was supposed to be sat, then back up at them. Chancing a quick glance behind, Ianto could see that the Saxons had retreated back to their gaggle now that Jack and John were with the rest of Torchwood.

Ianto was a little annoyed to see that when Jack and John approached the table, two spaces were vacated for them. He hesitated a moment, then sat on the grass where he had been before. He hugged his knees and stared into space, then was drawn back sharply by the sound of Jack addressing him.

"Ianto - sit here," he indicated as another inmate with a shaven head and plaited beard - three times the size of Ianto himself - was told to make room for him. Grumbling, he got up and went off somewhere else. Ianto slid onto the bench opposite Jack, and stared down at the wood nervously.

He listened quietly to the conversation around him, though he didn't really take any of it in. He felt eyes burning into him, and he looked up to find Handsome Jack watching him. Their gazes locked, and after a few seconds Jack looked away, blinking a little and once again concentrating on what Alex was saying.

Ianto bit his lip, and returned to staring at the wood grain. He completely missed John's eyes flicking between him and Jack, jaw set, fists clenched and lips pressed into a tense, taught line.

Well, his first day hadn't been _so_ bad.

He hadn't exactly made any friends, and had gained about fifty or so enemies, but at least his cellmate wasn't afraid to stand up to them on his behalf. Ianto liked to fight his own intellectual battles, but if someone was willing to take a punch for him, he wasn't going to turn them down.

Ianto had yet to actually have a conversation with his new cellmate, but figured he had plenty of time to get to know him. It was coming up to nine 'o' clock, and any moment now the guards were going to come and lock them in together.

"You're on the bottom bunk," was the first thing Jack said to him when he'd finally made his way up all the stairs to the top row of cells. John had already collected up his few belongings and moved further down the row into Owen's cell.

"Okay," mumbled Ianto, and then, "I'm sorry about you getting split up with your friend."

"Screws were gonna do it anyway," Jack muttered, turning to the little sink and getting his toothpaste and toothbrush out. "You gonna unpack?" he asked.

"Er - what space is mine?"

"Anywhere my stuff isn't."

Ianto nodded, and opened his clear plastic bag of toiletries, towels and change of clothes and shoes. His sister would bring the few items he'd be allowed to have from the outside world when she came to visit. He put his things away neatly and quietly, casting his eyes quickly over Jack's things. He didn't have much - a little tin box, a CD player and three CDs (Glenn Miller, Del Shannon and Scott Walker), but they somehow managed to look scruffy where they sat on the shelf. Ianto had no idea how he did it.

He quietly and awkwardly started pulling on his prison-issue pyjamas, and sat on his bed and hugged his knees. After a moment, he started pulling at the covers and moving the pillows from one end to the other.

"Woahh woah ... what are you doing?" asked Jack, and Ianto froze mid-rearrange.

"I ... I prefer to sleep with the wall on my other side," he explained.

"_Never_ sleep with your head towards the door. If a Saxon sees you he'll pour boiling water over you - and wouldn't you rather it was your feet than your face?"

Ianto felt his eyes widen, and Jack saw it, his expression changing to slightly amused.

Needless to say, Ianto started putting his pillows back.

The sound of metal doors slamming below as the prison officers locked each cell individually was growing closer, and Jack sighed heavily. "I'll be back in a minute," he muttered, and left Ianto on his own without waiting for a reply. He left the cell and turned right, and Ianto knew that's where Owen and John's cell was situated.

Five minutes later, he came back, looking sullen, drawn, and very upset, a novel in his hand.

"Are you okay?" Ianto asked cautiously.

"Why? What does it matter to you?" Jack snapped, hauling himself up onto his bed with the book.

Ianto said nothing, wriggling his toes under his thin blanket. "It's cold," he tried, hoping to strike up some form of conversation.

"You have no idea," replied Jack irritably, noisily turning pages.

"What book are you reading?"

Jack was interrupted from answering when a young blond guard appeared in the doorway. "Lights out in an hour!" he called jovially. "Night, you two."

"Night, Andy," grumbled Jack.

"Goodnight," Ianto replied politely as the door was hauled shut and the locks clunked home. He yawned, though it was far too early to go to sleep yet. He decided to leave Jack be, since he seemed pissed off at him still, despite none of it being his fault, and turned over onto his side and tried to find a comfortable position. He was vaguely aware of Jack occasionally turning pages, of the sound of 'Andy' locking up the remaining cells and the sound of the distant motorway outside. "Night, Jack," he mumbled, yawning again.

He couldn't help it, and fell asleep, briefly aware of Jack's reply before unconsciousness took him.


	2. Chapter 2

Ianto was fairly certain he wasn't at home.

He prised an eye open, and in the dim sunlight just about made out the grey, painted brick in front of him.

Ah yeah. The six years in prison thing.

Bollocks.

Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his face. He hadn't slept too badly, and he'd managed to thus far keep his tears at bay. It hadn't been so bad, he decided. It certainly could have been a lot worse, at any rate.

He pulled himself out of bed, avoiding Jack's arm hanging over the side of the mattress, and stood on tiptoes to try and see outside. He sighed bitterly, seeing the surrounding fences and the distant motorway taunting him in between trees and large expanses of grass.

"Get back in bed, John," Jack mumbled sleepily. "You know I hate it when you pace …."

Ianto bit his lip, and crawled back into his bunk anyway. "Sorry," he whispered, and jumped when Jack's face suddenly appeared in front of him, leaning down from the bed above. He blinked a couple of times, a stranger where his cell mate should be, then recalled the day before with a bitter expression.

"Mmmph," he grumbled as he settled back in his bunk. "Forgot about you."

"I forgot you, too," Ianto murmured, hugging his knees.

"Nobody forgets me," Jack sighed.

"Probably why they got you in the line-up," Ianto shot back.

Jack laughed. "I think I'll like you."

Ianto hugged his knees tighter. "I suppose that's good."

"'Spose," Jack mimicked. "What you in for, then?"

"Stuff. You?"

"Stuff. Did you do it?"

"No. Did you?"

"Sort of. How long you got?"

"Six years, less for good behaviour. You?"

"Five left, and I'm not very well behaved."

"I noticed," Ianto rolled his eyes.

Jack laughed, commented on the eye-roll being 'adorable', and started getting washed and dressed. Ianto had no idea where to look, feeling more than a little bit awkward.

"So," Jack cleared his throat, slathering shaving foam over his chin. "what family you got on the outside?"

"Just my sister … a brother-in-law … a niece and nephew. Yourself?"

"They got names?"

"My sister is Rhiannon, her husband Johnny. Their kids are David and Mica."

"That's nice. Don't ever, ever tell anyone else here – unless, of course, you want them to turn up dead out of spite because you looked at somebody funny."

Jack turned and narrowed his eyes at him, making sure his point got across. Ianto nodded and bit his lip. "Yes, sir. Sorry."

"Sir?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I look old?"

"You're a Captain. I'm sorry – I thought you deserved a bit of respect."

"'Sir' makes me feel old," Jack grimaced, carefully dragging his razor across his skin.

"Sorry."

"That's the third time you've apologised. In the future, don't apologise for anything. Make them believe you meant to do it."

"Yes … Captain."

"Do you have an aversion to calling me 'Jack'?"

"My grandfather was a military man. I was taught to show deference to people who readily risk their lives to protect me and my country. Even Americans."

"Do you know what I was Captain of?"

"No, sir."

"Then how do you know I'm a military man? I might just have a yacht."

"It's the way you hold yourself."

Jack looked at him in the mirror as he raised his head from washing off the foam. "Yeah?"

Ianto averted his eyes, wondering if he'd said something wrong. He very well might have had, but wasn't sure, so kept quiet.

"I was an RAF Captain. That's all you need to know."

"Wow," Ianto said before he could stop himself. It raised a smile from Jack, however. "Did you … ever … fight?" asked Ianto.

"Yeah," Jack replied stiffly, and Ianto took the hint to leave that there.

"It takes a lot to fly a jet. I mean … a _lot_ … I could never do it. I don't think I have sharp enough reflexes. Then again … I've never … tested them."

"You strike me more of a suit than a uniform."

"How can you be sure my suit wasn't my uniform?"

"So you are a suit, then? Go me – what a guess. Desk job?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I did a smidgen of … field work, so to speak," Ianto replied cagily.

Jack sat down on the bed, and Ianto hugged his knees minutely tighter. "Researcher?" the Captain asked.

"Erm … no."

Ianto stared at the top of his knees intently.

"Office boy?"

"No."

"Go on then. What are you?"

"I'm a … secretary."

"For …?"

"Smith & Saxon."

"Smith & Saxon … the law firm? A legal secretary?"

Ianto felt his cheeks flushing, and he stared at the top of his knees and nodded. Jack burst out laughing.

"Clearly not a very good one if you didn't do enough research to keep yourself out of here," he sniggered. "And you're so timid – I can see you doing _so_ well in court …."

"I'm not timid," Ianto scowled. "This is just … a new environment. I'd rather test the water first. And a legal secretary doesn't go to court."

"Just stop telling complete strangers all about your family, all right? Keep _extra_ quiet about them now – don't want it getting out you're a lawyer."

"I'm not a lawyer! I'm a legal secretary. I'm lower down the grunt chain than paralegals."

"If a job title has to get out, let it be lawyer. Otherwise the kids might pick on you even worse than if you actually _were_ a lawyer. Hell – they might even treat you nicer if they think you might sue them."

Ianto bit his lower lip. "You won't … tell anyone, will you?"

"Do as I say, and I'll hold my tongue."

Ianto jumped as someone knocked heavily on the door. Jack groaned, and keys scraped in the lock. "Up you two!" called a cheery voice, and the blonde officer with curls and big eyes who had locked them in the night before opened the door. He yawned widely. "The faster you lot get up, the faster I can go home to bed."

There was a muffled female voice near his shoulder before a dark head of hair with big green eyes poked around the door and unabashedly stared at Ianto. "Oooh he's cute!" beamed the young, female officer. "I'm Gwen. Gwen Cooper. Morning, Jack!" she added, flashing a smile in his direction.

"Mornin' sunshine."

"You're Jones, yes? What you in for?"

"Erm … stuff?" he replied.

The blonde officer in the doorway cleared his throat. "C'mon, Gwen. Plenty of chance to gossip later: we need to let them all out."

"Fine, fine," she grinned brightly. "See you later. Bye, Jack," she added, flashing him that same smile from before.

"Later," Jack waved with a wink.

Ianto sighed as the two officers left. "Dear God, you're screwing the screw, aren't you?"

Jack rolled his eyes as he sat further back on the bunk, his back against the wall. "I haven't, but John tried his hand once. Nearly had it bitten off."

"I'm hoping you're still referring to his hand?"

The Captain sniggered, and his eyes flicked to the door as John himself appeared, leaning through the frame. "Anybody home?"

"Morning, John," smiled Jack, patting the bed beside him and between him and Ianto, indicating he should sit down. Ianto became very aware he was still in his night clothes, but neither Jack nor John seemed to care.

"Morning Jack … Eye-Candy," he smirked, settling on the bed.

"Eye-Candy?" Jack smirked back, and Ianto rolled his eyes and tutted. "Ha! He is adorable." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "... and a _lawyer_ …."

John's eyebrows shot up. "Well … nice knowing you. Can I have my bunk back when you're dea-"

"John," Jack sighed. "Don't scare him. I'm the one that has to live with him."

"S'your fault," John muttered darkly. "We all know what you were thinking with whe-"

"John was a zoo keeper."

"_Jack_!"

"You tell anyone he's a lawyer, he'll tell everyone you're a zoo keeper – not a military Captain. Deal?"

"You're a bastard, Harkness."

"It's why yo – … it's why we're friends."

They shared a look, and Ianto averted his gaze to stare at the open doorway. _Oh … my … God …._

He hugged his knees and stared into space as Jack and John started talking in low voices, even though they knew he could probably hear them anyway. Their voices were just a background hum as Ianto lost himself in his thoughts, staring at the bottom of the doorway as a thousand awful situations involving his family raced through his mind.

"Planning on getting dressed today?" John's voice cut through his reverie.

Ianto blinked. "Hm?"

"Planning on getting dressed?" John repeated, a glint in his eye. Ianto's eyes flicked to Jack, who gave the smallest snigger. "We usually wake up and get dressed before the screws come 'round and leave the doors open. Funny how Jack forgot to mention that."

Ianto pressed his lips together. "Can't we shut the door?"

"The screws will think we're up to something," John replied a little too quickly.

Ianto's brow creased. "Why are you so keen on watching me get changed?"

"Because it's embarrassing for you," shrugged John.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Just get washed and dressed, Ianto – it's always embarrassing at first, but you'll forget that quickly."

"He's not my cell mate, though," Ianto pointed out.

"_He's not my cell mate, though,_" John mimicked.

Jack batted him around the back of the head. "Go on, John. Piss off. I mean … it's not like there's any particular reason why you should stay …."

They shared that look again, and Ianto climbed off the bed and hugged himself by the basin and mirror, waiting for John to leave. Jack picked up the book he'd been reading the night before, and began to read it as Ianto took off his shirt to wash. He unwrapped his bar of cheap, hard soap, rubbing it under the tap for nearly a minute before it would lather. Trying not to think about Jack on the bed or the open door, he washed his face, neck and under his arms, dragging the rough flannel over his skin but feeling better for it afterwards.

He would have to ask Rhiannon to bring a face cloth, he decided. He would have asked for some of his towels, too, but they'd probably be stolen. Ianto would definitely ask for bedding, though, if he was allowed – two sets, so Jack could have some too and not steal his (and hopefully be more persuaded to making sure Ianto's weren't nicked by other prisoners either).

The shaving foam smelled like mint and coconut, and he grimaced as he spread it over his face. The razor was cheap and harsh, and he only just managed not to cut himself (that would have been more embarrassing than the people walking past being able to see him shirtless). Finally he splashed the lukewarm water over his skin, shaking a few droplets out of his hair and and standing up straight. For less than a fraction of a second, he was sure he caught Jack watching him in the mirror, but he blinked and Jack was once again buried in his book.

Ianto's stomach fluttered, and his heart sped up slightly. He willed himself to calm down – he had to get changed, next. He tried not to look like he was rushing, and managed not to fall over as he pulled on the grey boiler-suit and fastened it up to his waist to hide his (what he considered 'embarrassing') Y-fronts. Pulling on his cotton t-shirt backwards was a little clumsy, but he had it sorted without Jack noticing (outwardly) and put his arms into the boiler-suit sleeves. He left the upper half of the boiler-suit unfastened like the other prisoners of Torchwood did, apart from Jack and a couple of others, who wore the upper half slung down so that they were only wearing t-shirts.

"How come you don't put your arms in?" Ianto asked Jack, sitting back on the bed. He figured his bunk doubled as the cell's couch.

"Arms in?"

"In the boiler-suit? I noticed only one or two of you did."

"It's a status thing," shrugged Jack. "And if you had my arms, would you hide them?"

Ianto chuckled. "I probably wouldn't have shaved them …." he said with a cheeky, lop-sided grin.

Jack batted him around the back of the head playfully as he did John. "I have a thing about body hair," he grimaced. "Well … on me anyway."

"You don't mind a hairy lady?" Ianto asked jokingly, hoping his agenda wasn't overly obvious.

Jack seemed to notice his slip up. "I … depends what area of the lady you're talking about. A woman who takes it all out between her legs just makes herself look like an eight-year-old girl, and that's wrong."

"Agreed – but maintenance goes a long way."

"... but underarms and legs? I'm sure it doesn't take _that_ long to shave them …."

Ianto sniggered, his eyes flicking to the big, metal door when a knock clanged on it. John was stood in the doorway again. "Am I allowed back in now the little girl's finished getting changed?"

"John," sighed Jack. "On your first day, you nearly cried because you had to go to the communal showers."

John glared at Jack, ice and steel in his eyes. The silence stretched out, and Ianto once again found himself hugging his knees to his chest, wondering what silent communication was passing between them and wishing he wasn't caught in the middle of whatever he was currently caught in the middle of.

Jack cleared his throat. "Breakfast!" he grinned brightly, and got up off the bed with an almost-jump. He pulled Ianto's wrist as he did, urging him up. "Stick close – don't want you to get lost."

"He'll hardly get lost in a rectangle," John pointed out coldly. "Run on ahead of us, Eye-Candy. We'll be right there."

Ianto looked to Jack, and Jack nodded. "Find Owen," he said, and gave him a gentle shove towards the door. John entered the cell fully, and Jack stood aside to let him in.

Standing on the walkway outside his cell on the fourth and highest tier, Ianto gazed down below into the cafeteria to see if he might have a snowball's chance in hell of spotting Owen. Over two thirds of the men in the hall were dark-haired, and all of them were wearing grey boiler-suits. Ianto was unsure what to do. He was wary of being left for a Saxon to find, but he also didn't want to look like he was waiting for a safety escort.

"Oi! Ianto!"

He heard Owen's shout to his right, and saw the skinny doctor making his way from his cell down the walkway towards him. "Hi, Owen."

"Where's Jack?"

"In there." Ianto pointed the few feet back to his cell. "They told me to go and find you and wait for them in the cafeteria."

"'They'?"

"John and Jack."

Owen hesitated a moment as if thinking, then sighed. "C'mon then," he said, gripping Ianto's upper arm and guiding him towards the metal stairs. Climbing up them the night before hadn't been so bad, Ianto decided. Going down them, however, was a different matter. They suddenly seemed very rickety, rusty metal stairs that thinly barricaded a pretty nasty – and fatal – fall.

Noticing his hesitation, Owen paused. "You get used to it – they won't collapse. I promise."

"I know they won't," Ianto murmured. "But right now my instincts are leaning towards a dangling length of rope being safer."

"Just don't look down," shrugged Owen. "C'mon … the sooner we get breakfast over and done with, the sooner we can watch _This Morning_."

"_This Morning_? Are they torturing us?"

"On the contrary," Owen replied. "it's been somewhat of a treat since Holly Willoughby took over."

"I don't have to sit through it, do I?" Ianto grimaced, carefully picking his way down the iron stairs, avoiding people coming up the other way and cursing inside at the silly superstitions his grandmother had always tried to enforce on him. _Don't cross people on the stairs – it's bad luck!_

Feet firmly on grey linoleum, Ianto joined the queue for breakfast with Owen just in front of him. It looked like all they were getting was cereal and warm milk, but Ianto's stomach growled and mouth watered all the same. He settled on bran flakes with what he sincerely hoped was fruit in it, and drowned them in the milk. He was given a pretty small glass of orange juice, and followed Owen to an empty table.

Ianto could hear yelling coming from somewhere up above, and it took him a moment to realise it was Jack and John's voices that were carrying all the way around the hall. Owen seemed to notice, too, and quickly finished his spoonful of cereal. "I'll be back in a minute," he muttered and got up before waiting for a reply.

_Don't leave me on my own,_ thought Ianto. He glanced around quickly, hoping he might recognise someone, but everyone looked pretty much the same in his unfamiliarity. The only thing that separated who he had to avoid from who he only might have to avoid was the open boiler-suits and the fully fastened ones.

Keeping his eyes down, he munched on his bran flakes and listened as Owen interrupted whatever row was happening upstairs and the raised voices fell quiet. A minute or so later Jack's feet appeared in his line of vision, marching straight to the front of the queue and pushing in to get his breakfast first. No one protested him doing it, but when John appeared and tried to do the same he was shoved out and to the back.

Jack pretty much slammed his tray down next to Ianto, and sat down heavily. Ianto sipped his orange juice. "You okay?"

"I'm sitting here so I don't have to look at you," Jack muttered.

"Have I done something wrong?"

"Maybe."

"I … I'm not going to apologise. I can assure you, I meant to do it."

Ianto glanced next to him and saw the corners of Jack's mouth tugging slightly. With a heavy sigh, the Captain sagged. "It's John."

"What about him?"

"He doesn't like sharing with Owen."

"I don't mind swapping. Owen seems cool."

"Owen's a dick. John's a dick. We're all dicks … except you."

Ianto blinked at the comment, and sipped his orange juice again. "I have my moments."

Owen sat down again, having given John what-for in the breakfast queue. "Honestly – doesn't that man understand the meaning of the words, 'be discreet or you'll get yourself killed'? Starting a row – and you!" Owen pointed threateningly at Jack. "... shouldn't rise to it! You're as bad as each other."

"Sorry, Dad," Jack replied sneeringly.

Ianto cleared his throat. "Discreet about what?" he asked carefully.

Owen's mouth snapped shut.

Jack coughed a little. "If we told you, that wouldn't be discreet."

"I know how to be discreet," Ianto persuaded.

"I'm sure you do," shrugged Jack. "I'm also pretty sure you have a sister called Rhiannon, a brother-in-law and a niece and nephew called David and Mica. You were _very_ discreet about that."

Owen's eyebrow rose, and Ianto felt himself colour slightly. "You asked."

John banged his tray onto the table opposite Jack. He sat down sharply and started wolfing down his cereal.

"Drama queen," murmured Jack.

Ianto managed not to yelp as all their trays went crashing to the floor, John having stood and swept them all off in fury. Jack raised his eyes to him. "I hadn't finished that."

John practically leaped over the table, taking Jack down the ground with him and punching and biting every bit of him he could reach. Jack laughed and roll them over, springing to his feet and taunting him and beckoning him to fight.

Owen simply put his head in his hands with an air of defeat. "C'mon, Ianto," he sighed. "Let's get out of here before they get us written up too."

There was a loud crash as Jack pretty much lifted and threw John onto a table full of Saxons, who then started throwing their firsts at any passing Torchy.

"Yeah … let's go …." agreed Ianto, and he and Owen made their way through to the stairs as the two halves of the hall started to surge towards each other, the prison officers shouting and trying to pull apart what they could. Guppy and Holroyd watched quietly from the sidelines, waiting for their moment, and Ianto felt a sickening sense of foreboding as they followed Jack with their eyes. Jack was currently holding a Saxon while John punched him (it appeared they were once again on the same side), before throwing him aside and launching himself at a large fella coming up behind John.

Ianto ran up to his cell, and Owen gave him a nod before carrying on down the row to his own. Ianto resisted the urge to shut the cell door as he went to the toilet, but gave in in the end and closed it half-way, deciding he best go while Jack wasn't there and the rest of the prison was distracted.

With an almost-sigh of relief, Ianto collapsed down onto his bunk and squeezed his eyes shut, the brawling outside finally calming down. He could hear Guppy and Holroyd's voices floating up, but they weren't shouting. They spoke with cold, hard anger – the sort that really made people afraid.

Before he had come here, Ianto would have found it comical that a prison full of criminals – mostly big, strong men who feared crossing _each other_ - would fall silent and obedient for two tiny women with nothing more than notebooks. Then, of course, he had met Alice Guppy and Emily Holroyd. The thought wasn't quite so funny any more.

Fifteen minutes later, and Jack slunk back into the cell. There were bruises forming on his arms and a pretty scary bite-mark in his neck, but Ianto couldn't see any serious injuries.

"That looks nasty," he grimaced, indicating the bite.

"They made me have an injection for it," he shuddered.

"Why?"

"Because men are dirty, disgusting, diseased rats who should all be put down," he growled, throwing himself down on the bunk next to Ianto.

"You sound like my sister," smiled Ianto. He reached out and squeezed Jack's shoulder, and when he didn't react let it rest there. "I don't mean to be nosy, but … you and John …?"

He let the question hang in the air, and Jack's eyes met his. He nodded once.

"Do you want me to move into Owen's cell?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't think I love him any more."

"Okay," Ianto nodded.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"What?"

"Knowing I'm gay."

"No."

"Good."

Ianto squeezed Jack's shoulder where his fingers were still resting, and a hand raised to cover them in appreciation.

Ianto wondered if the pulse in his thumb was currently detectable by Jack's hand as it raced and pounded along with his heart. _Jack was gay_ … not that Ianto was. Ianto was bicurious. He'd _thought_about it … but he hadn't acted on it. He wondered if Jack would be willing to help slake his curiosity ….

"You said … yesterday …." he remembered. "You said John was getting out soon?"

"Just under two months."

"What will you do when he's gone?"

"You, probably," he sighed, and Ianto's eyes widened. "... I was joking," the Captain clarified.

"Oh … right … yeah ... haha …." Ianto mumbled. He withdrew his hand, and found himself at a loss with what to do. To keep his hands busy, he found himself hugging his knees yet again.

Jack cleared his throat. "So … where do you come from?"

"Wonderland," Ianto smiled.

Jack gave a small laugh.

"Yourself?" Ianto asked.

"The bunk up there," Jack pointed. "The weather isn't up to much, and if you fall you tend to bruise quite badly … but there's worse places to live – like in fear of the Jabberwocky."

"Fuck the Jabberwocky – it's the unholy union of the Red Queen and Lord Voldemort that the citizens of Wonderland are having issues with," Ianto laughed, wondering if Jack would understand he was speaking in metaphor.

"Is it the Red Queen who sent you here?"

Ianto nodded. "I stole her tarts."

"You're in for theft or fraud ...?" Jack pondered.

"Neither, but both," Ianto replied evasively.

"Hmmm," was all Jack replied, and his brow creased as he thought. He broke the silence with a chuckle. "Do you ever relax? All you seem to do is hug yourself."

Ianto felt his knuckles tighten slightly around his knees. "I … uh … I'm not used to this place. I feel … insecure."

"I probably would if I were you. You're not exactly prison material, you shy, timid little thing."

"I'm not _timid_," Ianto glared, making Jack laugh. He reached out and ruffled his hair, like Ianto had seen him do with John.

"You have the worst problem of all," he sighed, though a smile still played around his lips. "You're adorable – and the other guys will like that."

"How many here are gay?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "Dunno. But most of these guys just eventually get to a point where any hole will do."

Ianto shuddered, and Jack turned serious. He leaned closer to Ianto, his voice low. "If anyone so much as looks at you funny, you tell me, okay? And if they hurt you … or … anything … you don't have to go into detail. Just give me their name – or their description – and I'll fucking kill them."

Ianto leaned in a little closer, more out of indulgence than necessity for hearing quiet talk. "You think they'll … ?"

"Stick close to me, Alex or Owen – or any other Torchwood you get to know who's bigger than you if we're not close by."

"What about John?"

Jack's eyes darted away for a second, and when he reforged the eye contact, he reached out to squeeze Ianto's shoulder. "I can't trust him, so you can't trust him. Just … try not to be alone with him?"

Ianto nodded. "Okay."

Jack's hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, and the warm grip suddenly became all Ianto could possibly think about.

He felt Jack hesitate, too. Ianto could see him trying to work something out in his head behind the eyes, but the moment was broken when a shout sounded in the corridor.

"Alex's cell!"

Ianto sprang up from the bed, and Jack blinked as if unsure where he was. He pulled himself up. "You won't be wanted," he said quietly, and slipped out of the door.

_Thank God_, Ianto thought, blessing whatever may or may not be watching that he now had time to adjust his boiler-suit to be more comfortable around his groin – if not deal with the sudden problem properly. He sensed that Jack may be gone a while – Alex was probably going to penalise him for having a hand in starting the earlier fighting – so he shut the cell door to and climbed under his blanket.

Lying back, he slid his hand into his underwear and grasped himself, squeezing with a little pressure, pushing his foreskin up and down. He licked his hand and stroked himself, and cast his mind around for something hot and sweaty to bring him off.

No matter how hard he tried, every woman he could think of morphed into Captain Jack Harkness, a hand gripping his upper arm, hot on fevered skin. Ianto's breath caught as he pictured Jack that morning, leaning over the sink topless and water droplets running down his smooth chest. Strong thighs and moulded calves disappearing inside the horrid grey jump-suit. Ianto himself splashing water over his face … raising his eyes to the mirror and meeting Jack's gaze for less than a millisecond ….

His orgasm was joyless, but he knew deep down this wouldn't be the last time he would come for Captain Jack Harkness.


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't believe it … I just can't believe it …."

Ianto watched his sister repeating the same words and over and over again, more to herself than to him.

"Apart from that one time … you were always the good one … you were always the one they had high hopes for …."

Ianto bit his lip, waiting for her to finish.

"What would mam think?" she fretted. "What would Dad have done?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't do it, though. You didn't. You should appeal …."

"I am appealing."

"They can't lock you up. They can't."

"They have."

"You're not gonna survive in this place … how could they put someone like you in a place like this? Don't they realise the dangers."

Ianto shifted uncomfortably. "Stop it, Rhiannon. It's fine. I've made a couple of friends."

"Who? What are they in for?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I haven't even been here seventy-two hours!"

Rhiannon leaned forward. "What if you've made friends with a paedophile? Or a murderer? Or … or a drug baron?"

"I think I'm mostly in with petty criminals," he lied to reassure her. "My cell mate is pretty respected in the wing, so … I'm sure I'll be fine. Really, Rhiannon."

"I promise to visit once a month," she told him, wide-eyed. "Right up until you get out – so you better get out soon because it's not exactly a short drive! I'll bring you whatever you need – I have keys to your flat, so if there's anything in there … and I brought the things you already asked for. And some photographs – they said they'll give them to you when you go back in once everything's been security checked and stuff."

Ianto let out a heavy breath. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I really appreciate it – but you don't need to visit quite so often. People might notice, and … well … just be safe, 'kay?"

Her eyes went wider, and she nodded. "Okay," she sniffed.

The visiting room was basically a large hall with lots of single-span tables. Ianto had been forced into a bright orange hi-vis tabard so that 'it was easy to identify the inmates', and it had made him nearly throw up. Rhiannon had managed to at least give his expression a small smile when she had entered the room, but other than that she appeared to be a mess. He tried to persuade her not to worry about him and just carry on, but she stared at him like he was insane. "I know we've drifted apart," she glared. "but you're still my baby brother and I love you."

Ianto had stared at her in shock, before snapping at her to keep her voice down.

"I'll write to you," he promised her. "Just don't visit so often. Really."

"I don't think once a month is 'often'," she argued.

"That's because you're a mother," he smiled.

A bell rang signalling the end of allotted time, and chairs began to scrape back, the hum of voices in the room increasing in volume.

Ianto managed to stop Rhiannon hugging him, knowing she'd probably start fawning over and babying him in front of the few other inmates who had visitors. Dodging away, he gave her a meaningful look and she thankfully took the hint. Sullenly, she filed out of the room, and Ianto went to stand in the queue with the other inmates to be signed back into the wing. He kept his head down and quiet, not looking anyone in the eye and trying to become invisible.

He was given a cardboard box with his name and ID number on it, the tape roughly hacked open while security had checked the contents. He knew it was probably best to wait until he was in the safety of his cell before checking it himself, and held it tightly to his chest as he walked briskly back through the cafeteria. He gave a discreet nod to Rhys, and hurried up the iron stairs.

"Back," he called, walking into the cell and finding Jack lounging on his bed with his book. "My sister sent some things."

Jack grunted and nodded, barely glancing up from his book, so Ianto set it on the small desk they had to share and opened the top. He pulled out a large bar of chocolate, some photographs and a bottle of two-in-one shampoo and conditioner that Rhiannon must have taken from his flat. His shaving cream was there, but no razor, and his own toothbrush and toothpaste. His beaded necklace was tucked down the side, and a small pot of hair wax lay open on its side at the bottom.

He screwed the lid shut and set it on his part of the shelf. "You can share this if you want," he told Jack, indicating the product. "And I've got chocolate. I think she's only sent me one blanket though."

Jack looked up from his book. "What chocolate?"

"Dark. Seventy-five per cent."

"I prefer something a little sweeter. Keep it for yourself."

Ianto nodded, and batted Jack out of the way while he tucked the bar under the side of his fitted sheet on the wall side of the bed.

"What should I do with my pictures?" Ianto asked, noting that Jack's – if he had any – weren't on display.

"Ask a guard for blu-tack if you wanna put them up. I keep mine in a box, though. Less chance of being stolen or getting damaged "

"Mmm," Ianto agreed, looking down at his photograph of Rhiannon, Mica and David, taken only a few weeks ago. "I think I might find somewhere safe."

"Put 'em under my box for now if you want."

Ianto smiled and thanked him, but he didn't look up to see. Carefully, Ianto put his photographs on Jack's shelf, safely under the little tin. He put his shampoo, toothbrush and paste by the sink and pulled his blanket out of the box.

It was bright red and fleeced, and looked very cosy – he really, really hoped Jack didn't try and steal it.

"That looks warm," the Captain observed, finally glancing away from his novel.

"I … erm … my sister sent it," Ianto said lamely.

"Wanna share alternate nights?" Jack suggested.

Ianto nodded.

"Thanks," Jack said, then returned to his book.

Things put away, Ianto felt at a loss with what to do with himself. Jack was on his bed, and the chair by the desk had no seat (Ianto decided it was probably best not to ask).

He blew air out of his mouth, puffing his cheeks slightly and putting his hands on his hips in a nervous gesture. He was fairly sure Jack was smirking at his behaviour, but continued pretending to read nonetheless.

Decisively, Ianto started towards the bunks, putting his hands on the edge of the topmost one with the intention of hauling himself up.

"... no you don't," Jack said pointedly, with a raised eyebrow.

"You're sat on my bunk," Ianto scowled in reply.

"... and?"

"Well … I … um …." Ianto stuttered, then folded his arms, scowling again.

"You could ask me to move?" suggested Jack.

"Oh … um … right. Could you move so I can sit down, please?"

"Nope. I'm reading."

"Can't you read on your own bunk?"

"Can't be bothered moving."

Ianto glared at Jack as the Captain tried not to laugh, staring intently at his book despite his eyes not moving or reading.

"So what am I supposed to do?" sulked Ianto.

"Sit on the floor?"

"Let me sit on my bed, Jack!"

Jack sighed heavily, and shifted until his legs were curled to the side, leaving part of the bed spare for Ianto to sit. Ianto thanked him, went to lower himself down and found Jack had extended his legs again. Making frustrated sound, Ianto straightened, pulled the book from Jack's hands and stepped back sharply.

"Hey!" the Captain snapped, indignant. "What you think you're doing?"

"Move," Ianto demanded.

"Give me my book back!"

"Move!"

"Book! Now!"

"Come and get it," Ianto challenged, and paused to look down at it. The covers were bound in plain green canvas, so he went to flick open the front page to see what it was that had Jack so enthralled. He was too slow, however, and the book was snatched from him.

"Don't you iever/i do that again!" Jack glowered.

"Oh, grow up then!" Ianto snapped in reply, darting behind him and throwing himself onto his stomach on his own bunk. He turned his head so that it was facing the wall and he didn't have to look at Jack, and waited to see what would happen.

"Shift your legs," was all Jack said.

Ianto curled onto his side, still facing the wall and allowing space for Jack to sit. He did,and rested his book open on his thighs as he continued to read. Ianto closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, and allowing himself time to think. It was strangely peaceful, lying on his bed with his eyes shut, listening to the distant hum of people in the cafeteria, the sound of Jack turning the pages of his book, the sound of Jack yawning, the sound of Jack breathing, the sound of Jack shuffling to get a little more comfortable … Actually … Ianto didn't feel that peaceful at all. iGod, Jack was noisy/i, he decided. He could hardly hear himself think over the sounds of Jack at the end of his bed.

Ianto's eyes flew open. He realised he was lying on the same bed as the man was sitting on, but surely he couldn't be ithat/i loud, even so close together. Why couldn't he think? Why was he so aware of him?

He squeezed his eyes shut again, and heard Jack laugh softly as he read. Briefly, Ianto entertained the idea of going to Owen's cell for a bit, but then remembered that John would probably be there and thought against it. He checked his watch – just gone two 'o' clock. Maybe he could have a siesta?

"So ..." he started. "What do we generally do during the day? I mean … like … y'know … ?"

"Well, it's Saturday. Not much happens on Saturday," Jack replied, raising his head from his book to look down to him. "But on weekdays, we have jobs during the day most usually. If you don't have a job you'd probably just hang around with the other guys who don't have jobs."

"I don't have a job," Ianto pointed out. "How do I get one? What do I get for getting one?"

"Money tokens to spend on books or sweets and stuff. Paper, pens, stamps. I buy batteries for my CD player and cigarettes, usually."

"I haven't seen you smoke."

"Nope. Don't touch the things. I'm hoarding them in case I can trade them for something I need from one of the other inmates."

"What like?"

"Owen's brewing his own hooch, and sometimes an inmate or other might be able to lay his hands on some porn."

Ianto lifted his head a little. "I thought you were gay?"

"Mmm?"

"Well … like … y'know … won't they have like … straight porn?"

"Ianto, love – I mentioned it for your benefit. I have John, remember?"

Ianto looked away quickly, the brick in front of him becoming suddenly ivery/i interesting. "I though you were … off him?" he asked, his voice finding itself rising a little.

"He doesn't know that," shrugged Jack, opening his book again.

"So … you … you're leading him on? You're using him?"

"Look on the bright side!" Jack grinned, his eyes twinkling in what Ianto thought was a well-practiced expression. "If he's concentrating on me, he won't be bothering you."

"So you're whoring yourself out to do me a favour?" Ianto asked, eyebrow raised.

"Nahhh – you got me! I'm just a guy who has another guy to have sex with. You honestly think I'm going to turn him down just because I despise everything he is?"

"Are you really that lonely in here?"

Jack's expression didn't change, and his answer came after a moment's hesitation. "I'm not lonely," he insisted, turning his head to stare into his book. "I'm inot/i lonely."

Ianto could sense that he'd hit a nerve, and even though it had been partially unintentional he felt guilty. He sat up slowly, and hugged his knees, then remembered Jack commenting on him doing that and tried to sit cross-legged. "I … I'm sorry," he muttered.

Jack glanced up. "For what?" he asked, blank.

"I didn't mean to … y'know?"

"What?" Jack asked again, and Ianto was pretty certain his pretending not to know was a defence mechanism. He decided to leave it.

"Nothing," sighed Ianto. "What are you reading, anyway?"

"A novel," Jack replied.

"What happens in it?"

"Well … you sure you wanna know?"

Ianto shrugged. "Don't see why not."

"It's a love story, really. Though … different types of love. Love for another, love for a friend, love of art – but mainly, love for oneself."

"Wow. Sounds pretty deep."

Jack gave a small laugh. "Yeah. I suppose."

"What happens?"

"Well … an artist meets this man. The perfect man – and I mean iperfect/i. He meets him and falls in love with him, but … the perfect man is straight."

"Ah."

"Yeah. The artist introduces him to his other friend, who also falls in love with him, and the perfect man favours the new friendship over the old one, drifting away from the first."

"... and the Perfect Man doesn't realise that the two guys are in love with him?"

"It's … unclear."

The metal of the cell door reverberated, Owen leaning in through the frame to knock heavily. "Jack … could you do me a favour? John's … having a moment. I think he might actually kill someone this time."

Jack sighed and marked his page, stood and tucked his book under his pillow. "Keep your eye on the kid, yeah? Make sure he doesn't wander."

Owen pursed his lips and shouted down the walkway as Jack hurried to his cell. "I'm not your fucking babysitter!" He entered the cell and threw himself down on the bed, practically growling. "Keep your eye on John … keep your eye on New Boy … when am I supposed to be looking out for myself, exactly?"

"Sorry," Ianto muttered, and returned to his new default position of hugging his knees. "Um … so … how long have Jack and John been … y'know … ?"

"Whaddya mean? What about Jack and John? Who've you been talking to?"

"... Jack told me."

Owen calculated for a second, then relaxed a bit and shrugged. "Can't be entirely certain. They were here before I was, and already … y'know … but as a doctor … I have to say … it makes my skin crawl …."

"Oh?"

"Think about it … they don't exactly have any … hygienic lotion for the motion, so to speak. Lord knows what they use – though I definitely know it's not toothpaste. After a moment of desperation they tried that once, and John's cock was inflamed for days – I'll tell you that for free, as long as the next time you mention it is in a very quiet but public place."

Ianto sniggered softly. "He'd actually murder me."

"At least he'd be out of my cell," Owen shrugged.

Ianto fidgeted with his shoe lace, the conversation running a little dry. "So … erm …." he tried. "You thought of a nickname for me yet?"

Owen sighed. "Well … the lads keep calling you Little Fish."

"'Fish'? What the fuck?"

"'Fish' is prison slang for 'new boy', and you're small and weedy at the moment. Even though you managed to sneak your way to the head of the shoal, I'm sure the name won't stick."

"What if it does? I don't like it!"

Owen shrugged again. "Tough luck, Little Fish. Actually, I think it's growing on me. Didn't you ever have a goldfish growing up?"

"No. But my Da had a little tank of silverfish in his study that I used to feed."

"Adorable," Owen smirked sarcastically. "Aren't silverfish little fish, too?"

"They're tiny."

Owen's smirk widened. "I'll find out from Jack whether you're 'tiny', too."

Ianto reached for his pillow and whacked Owen with it. "Don't even joke about it!" he snapped, whacking him again while Owen laughed and laughed.

"All I meant was that sooner or later you're gonna have a nice dream … and you honestly think Jack isn't going to have a peek?"

Ianto put his head in his hands. "Stop it!" He knew he was turning red.

Owen frowned at him. "What you so embarrassed for? … is it really that small?"

"No! I mean … it's not that! It's … I …."

"Does it weird you out that he likes cock?"

"No!" Ianto shook his head. "It's just … I'm not comfortable with him … like …."

"Objectifying you?"

"Yeah. That's it, I think."

"Have you ever looked at a woman and thought 'wow, nice rack'?"

"Erm … not quite that turn of phrase, but I get your gist."

"So … if you think about it … you're uncomfortable with Jack thinking of you as attractive using the parallel mark scheme of the way you think of a woman?"

"I … I …." Ianto bit his lip. "I never thought … I never … I don't mean …."

"Just relax, Ianto. Jack's naturally the alpha male; naturally predatory. He most likely won't even act on it. You're straight."

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Are you … ?"

Owen's eyebrows shot up. "Am I gay?"

Ianto shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"I'm … I dunno. Sometimes I start thinking … but then I'm trapped in here with nothing but men to stare at every day."

"Well … there's always Guppy and Holroyd," joked Ianto, and Owen looked like he was about to throw up.

"You're sick! You're wrong in the head! Ew, ew, ew! Don't even ijoke/i!"

Ianto laughed, trying to hide it behind his hand as Owen continued to glare and glare. Indignant, Owen reached for the pillow Ianto had hit him with, but Ianto could barely stop laughing to defend himself.

"Heyy!" Jack's voice called from the door. "You're starting the Hot Young Guy Pillow Fight Competition without me?"

"Jack … discretion?" Owen reminded him.

"Oops," grinned Jack, and sandwiched himself in between the two of them. "A rose between two thorns," he joked. "Has anyone got a drink? I've got this taste in my mouth …."

Ianto passes him a glass of water from the desk, realising only after he'd handed it over and adding together the fact that Jack had gone to 'calm John down', then returned with a 'taste in his mouth' probably meant that he and John had been ….

The mental image popped into Ianto's head, and refused to go away. He returned to hugging his knees, in case anything decided to … happen. It didn't help that Jack had decided to use the top his his knees as an arm rest, and Ianto could feel the heat from the side of Jack's torso all down the front of his legs. The Captain's arm hung down near Ianto's thigh as Jack relaxed, and Ianto found himself yet again acutely aware of him and every sound or movement he made.

Ianto tried to shake off the hyper-awareness, staring at the wall as Owen and Jack spoke, losing himself in thought as best he could.

It seemed to work, as it was at least five minutes before he realised that Jack was rubbing the material of Ianto's boiler-suit between his thumb and forefinger, very close to the front of his thigh where the material hung slightly loose on his frame. The action was flirtatious and intimate at the same time, and Ianto calmly acknowledged that he was silently freaking out.

Freaking out … in a strangely good way. It must have been good – his body was definitely thinking so – and rather than tensing, Ianto found himself relaxing without properly clocking it. Jack's fingers stopped playing for a second, and a minute pressure of finger and thumb pressing into soft muscle made Ianto tense again, then slowly relax. The fingers became a hand, and the hand squeezed gently.

It took Ianto a moment to remember that Owen was still with them.

He cleared his throat nervously, and they both turned to look at him expectantly, Jack's hand moving away from his thigh and so that Owen wouldn't see – or wouldn't obviously see, at any rate.

"I … um. Jack: tell Owen he's not allowed to call me Little Fish!"

Jack sniggered.

"I'm not gonna call him 'Little Fish'," Owen replied. "I'm going to call him 'SilverFish' – apparently he's tiny," he whispered on his final words.

Jack gave Ianto a little wink. "Communal showers shall be the arena of truth, or so the saying goes."

"Do we have to shower communally?" Ianto asked. "I mean … really have to?"

"You could just inot/i shower," suggested Jack, and smiled as Ianto shuddered at the thought. "Don't worry, SilverFish. You'll get used to it."

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Owen grinned from behind Jack, and narrowly missed the pillow being thrown in his direction yet again. "I better be off," Owen sighed. "Gotta … see a man about a dog."

He got up from the bunk.

"Oh … Jack? Quick word?"

Jack shrugged and got up, too, and he and Owen left the room. Ianto took the opportunity to re-adjust his god-awful boiler-suit over his Jack-induced erection, telling himself it was unfamiliar physical contact that had done it (despite knowing lying to himself probably wasn't a healthy pastime).

He pulled his red blanket off the table and wrapped himself up in it, again thinking about a siesta opportunity. Closing his eyes, he started thinking of not-Jack thoughts, and regulated his breathing until he found himself drifting off. A few minutes of quiet, and he was aware on his peripheral that Jack had come back, and listened to him entering the cell, hesitating, and creeping towards him.

"Ianto?"

"Mmf," Ianto replied, prising an eye open to glance over his shoulder at him. "What?"

Jack's demeanour seemed subdued, and he knelt by Ianto's bunk. Slowly, he started pulling the red blanket back and Ianto grabbed it on reflex. "What are you doing?"

Jack ignored him, save for making eye contact as he rested a hand on his thigh. Ianto stared at him, a little afraid, a little excited and a little unsure. He gasped and arched his back as Jack's hand slid down and grasped his still-prominent erection, the unexpected, sudden movement sending a jolt of pleasure and electricity through his body.

"Hm," was all Jack said, letting go. "That's … that's all I needed to know." He looked at Ianto sadly for a second, then stood and hauled himself up onto his bunk. "Sleep tight," he called down, and Ianto remained frozen on his mattress, listening to the shuffle of pages and the blood racing through his ears.

Having a slow day, it took him far too long to realise what Owen's 'quick word' with Jack had most likely been about.

**Chapter 3 **


	4. Chapter 4

His dreams now seemed to consist mainly of rolling and tumbling, the feel of cotton brushing against his skin and something warm; soft and hard at the same time; grasping hold of his body and pulling him along with it as they moved together. Sometimes he was on top, sometimes he was on his back, that cotton-on-skin feeling making his Dream Self sigh, and if there was time before the next tumble, clasp the sheets into his fist and feel the soft material caress the back of his hand.

The warm, soft, hard thing is most definitely a body, and he can't quite make out whose it is just yet, but that doesn't matter. Eyes close and his Dream Self only feels, a hand running up his back and squeezing his shoulder in a firm grip. The tumbling stops abruptly, and he is lying on his back. He's out of breath, his toes curling, his fists slowly closing into bunches of the cotton sheets.

A gasp escapes, and he knows what is pressing into the opening of his body and he welcomes it, the other presence heavy on top of him, their movement almost experimental and uncertain.

It feels so good, and he wants more. He runs his hand up the chest before him, listening to ragged breathing that isn't just his own, resting the hand on a tense shoulder and raising his eyes to the face before him and realising that it wa-

"Jack ... Captain, you getting up?"

Jack opened a bleary eye, lifting his head laboriously to look over his shoulder at Ianto, stood there fully dressed and trying to rouse him. He dropped his head back to his pillow heavily. "What do you want?" he grumbled.

"The screws are coming 'round, sir."

"Mmf."

"Jack ..."

"I'm getting up!"

Ianto stepped back from the bunk beds, making a quick retreat. "Sorry."

"What have I told you about apologising?"

Jack sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to climb down. Ianto averted his eyes, turning and suddenly becoming very interested in the sink. The Captain frowned at his back for second, then glanced down at himself. He sniggered as Ianto tried not to be awkward.

"You ... uh ... you said 'never apologise, just make them think you did it on purpose'."

Jack smirked. "So ... go on then ..."

"'Go on then' what?" Ianto frowned, losing interest in the sink and turning to face him. He kept his eyes firmly on Jack's face.

"Go on then ... convince me that you woke me up from my nice dream on purpose?"

Ianto's eyes widened slightly, and a slight colouration rose to his cheeks. "I ... I ... I didn't ... I woke you up on purpose, sir," he eventually settled on saying. "I ... didn't know you were ... um ..."

"Having a nice dream?"

Ianto nodded and turned back to the sink, putting some toothpaste on his toothbrush and starting to scrub his teeth. Jack suspected he'd have already brushed his teeth, and now just desperately didn't want to talk.

"You're so awkward," sighed Jack, knowing now was the best time to bait him - when he couldn't talk back (If Ianto ever did talk with his mouth full, Jack would take it as a sign of the Apocalypse) - and everything would be pent up until he could spit and rinse. "I have an erection. Get over it, prudish little Welshman." Ianto shot him a glare, but be damned if he wasn't going to clean his teeth properly. "I've been wondering ... are you a virgin?" Ianto rolled his eyes, not rising to it, and Jack hopped down from the bed. He made a show of pulling out his waistband and having a look. "I could help you with that ..."

Ianto spat into the sink and rinsed his brush. He hesitated when Jack's hand landed firmly on his shoulder, turning him so that they faced each other. Jack had a playful glint in his eye that Ianto hadn't seen since the afternoon when Jack had realised he'd given Ianto an erection - and then Owen had had 'words' and ... did he really ruin everything by making Jack back off? Or had Jack really been what Ianto wanted?

Before Jack could comment further, Ianto shook him off. "I didn't think you'd want me staring, is all." he reasoned. "I wouldn't want you staring at me."

"Who says I was staring at you?" Jack asked defensively, folding his arms and taking a minute step back.

Ianto frowned. "Nobody. I was just sayi-"

"I don't stare at you. I don't even think of you."

"I wasn't suggesting you did!"

"Whatever. You're ... you ... what are you going to accuse me of next?"

Ianto's eyebrows shot up. "I wasn't accusing or suggesting anything! I was ... being empathetic."

Jack turned from him. "Get out while I get dressed."

Ianto's eyes rolled dramatically. "I can't. The screws haven't unlocked us yet. I'll just ... lie on my bed and shut my eyes, if you're suddenly all body-shy."

"I'm not body-shy. Consider not seeing my body a punishment for i_you/i_."

Ianto lay down on his bed and turned his back so that he was facing the wall. He reached down the side of his mattress to retrieve his chocolate from between it and the fitted sheet, rustling the foil a little as he broke some off. "I'm never waking you up from nice dreams again if you're this grumpy," he grumbled.

"What was that?" asked Jack from the sink.

"Nothing," sighed Ianto, popping a dark square into his mouth.

"You weren't in my dream," Jack scowled.

"Oh iwhat/i? I never said I was!"

"Good! 'Cause you weren't! Why would you be?"

Ianto turned on his mattress, frowning at Jack's back. "I ... did you ..." His eyes widened with the realisation. "Oh my God, Jack you are so itransparent/i!"

"You ... I'm not! You weren't! People say i_I'm/i_ vain, and you're suggesting I dream about you!"

"I said ino such thing/i. You did! And now ... eugh ... now you've made everything weird!"

Jack's mouth was firmly closed, his lips pressed into a line. "I'm sorry," he eventually said, though he didn't mean it.

Ianto sighed and opted to get the water flowing under the bridge as fast as possible. "No you're not. You did it on purpose, remember?" he joked.

"Why would I dream of iyou/i on purpose?"

"Maybe you could hear me wandering around and I filtered through?" Ianto suggested, determined not to be hurt or offended.

"So you made me dream of you?"

"So you definitely did dream of me, sir?"

Jack's mouth snapped shut again as a scrape sounded from outside the cell door. It swung inwards and Officer Cooper stood there, smiling brightly. "Morning, lads! Oo ... morning Captain!" She gave Jack's crotch a cheeky salute.

Ianto sniggered, and Jack unabashedly folded his arms, a strange, cheery and confident persona slipping into place and masking the insecure man that had stood there only a moment before. "He's such a morning person. Can't get him up fast enough sometimes."

Gwen laughed. "Oi, you be careful. I'll have you written up."

Jack shrugged. "What's life without an ongoing sexual harassment case?"

Ianto sniggered, standing. "Chocolate, ma'am?" he offered to Gwen.

"Oooo don't mind if I do." She licked her lips and went for a relatively small piece.

"That's tiny. Have another one," insisted Ianto.

"Ohh ... I couldn't."

"It's not like you need to watch your figure," he smiled, giving her a wink.

She smiled and gave in, taking another piece and popping it into her mouth. She sucked and closer her eyes. "Mmmm ... that's good ..."

Jack cut in. "Well, Office Cooper, I'd love for you to stay but I need to get dressed now. I'm already on a warning for being written up," he winked.

Gwen laughed and rolled her eyes. "See you later!" she called, and left to unlock the rest of the row.

"What the hell was that?" Jack demanded.

"... I gave her some chocolate and a compliment. I happen to know women are rather fond of chocolate and compliments, sir."

"Don't even ipretend/i screws are your friends!" Jack fumed. "They're not!"

"You pretend! What's wrong with having her on my side?"

"Go away. I'm getting dressed."

Ianto rolled his eyes, tucked his chocolate back down the side of his mattress and marched down to Owen's cell. Over the past week, he'd been spending more and more time there. Jack had been getting colder and colder since ... Owen's 'words'.

He knocked and entered, finding only John in there.

"Where's Owen?" asked Ianto.

"Well hello there, Eye-Candy!" John grinned, ignoring the question. "Wandering off on your own again? Or is anything other than the space between this cell and yours out of bounds?"

"You cried on your first trip to the communal showers," Ianto replied coolly. John's eyes flashed. "Just tell me where Owen went."

"You've been lucky so far, Eye-Candy. Just wait until they take you in with the Saxons on your own."

Ianto sighed, then bit his lip. "John ... I ... why did we get off on the wrong foot?"

John seemed taken aback by the question. "Because ... you ... because we did. We're not supposed to like each other."

"Why?"

"iBecause/i!"

"Look ... I'm sorry that ... I got put in Jack's cell."

"And?"

Ianto was unsure what else to apologise for. "'And' what?"

John's arms folded across his chest. "We can't like each other, Eye-Candy. We're two bitches after the same dog. We can't get along."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "It's not like that. I'm not even ... interested in him."

"Yeah. And the Pope's Jewish."

He felt his jaw drop. "I'm inot/i! He ... I ... I'm str- ... he's not my type."

"Jack's everyone's type," John smiled, a distant look in his eyes. "Yeah ... hmm. You're his type, too."

"Let me guess - Jack's type is everybody?"

John shook his head. "Nope - the good Captain is rather picky," he bitterly admitted. "Dark hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones; emotionally unbalanced, a little too innocent and, most importantly, naive enough to fall for his crap."

"Oh?" Ianto replied, unable to think of anything else and shifting edgily.

"Exactly how I was," John mumbled, his tone still bitter. He sat on the lower bunk. "Go away," he said, lifting his legs to hug his knees. "But before you do, take a good hard look at what Captain Jack Harkness will turn you into."

Ianto stared at him for a couple of seconds, then retreated as fast as he could. He walked quickly back towards his cell, nearly going straight into Owen on the walkway.

"Sorry," Ianto muttered, and Owen caught his arm.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Ianto shook him off. "I think a ghost would have made less of an impression. Going down to breakfast?"

Owen shrugged. "May as well. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just hungry," Ianto assured him, making his way towards the stairs, Owen following behind and catching up, slightly confused. In the end he decided not to ask.

They queued up and got their meagre meals in silence, sitting down at an empty table as the hall began to fill.

"Jack's been off with me," Ianto finally said. "That is ... off with me if he's ever been on with me. He sent me away."

Owen shrugged. "He'll get over it."

"Will he?"

Owen sighed, and set down his spoon. "Look ... are you ... having second thoughts?"

"About what?"

"Shagging Jack."

Ianto was pretty sure he hadn't just blushed: he'd changed colour. "I ... not ... I didn't mean ... I just want to be on his good side ... and ... you know ... make him stop being all moody ... I wasn't ... I didn't mean ... I i_didn't/i_ ..."

Rolling his eyes, Owen picked up his spoon again. "You want him to stop being arsey at you for being straight?"

"Um ... yeah?"

"Then flirt with him a bit. He'll need to know you're cool before he can be cool."

"Why wouldn't I be cool?" he asked, though he was already thinking of several flirtatious lines and comments he might be able to throw in the Captain's direction.

"Because you were annoyed at him for advancing on you, remember?"

"Mmm. S'pose," Ianto agreed dully. "Owen?"

"Yahuh?"

"What was John like when he first came here?"

"I told you: they were already here when I got put away. You gonna eat that?" he asked, pointing at Ianto's toast.

Ianto shook his head and he grabbed it. "How long had he been in?"

"Pfft. I dunno. Two years? I know Jack had been in two years by then."

"How long is he doing altogether?"

"Erm ... I think eight years. Three done, five to go."

Ianto put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth and tried not to grimace. "Surely even i_cardboard/i_ would taste better than this ...?" he scowled.

Owen laughed, then jerked his head towards the stairs. "Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumber are on their way."

Jack and John appeared, walking towards the queue together. Jack pushed to the front as he usually did, allowing John in in front of him. In less than five minutes they were on their way to the table, and Ianto was resolutely staring at his tasteless breakfast and not looking either Jack or John in the eye.

"Morning, Owen," Jack grinned setting down his tray next to Ianto. John sat opposite them, instantly beginning work on his cereal.

"Ugh," he grimaced. "My favourite: Cardboard Flakes."

Jack sniggered quietly. "At least we're recycling. Saving the planet 'n' that."

Ianto let his his own soggy flakes drop from his spoon into his bowl for effect. "Fuck the planet - I want Kellogg's."

"Mmm," Jack agreed. "Or full English."

"Full i_Welsh/i_. Laverbread, extra oatmeal and bacon. Yum."

The other three made disgusted sounds, and Owen put Ianto's half-eaten toast back on his plate. "Eugh - I thought Full Welsh was the same as Full English?"

Ianto shrugged. "In hotels, perhaps." He wondered for a second if Jack would hit the ball if he threw it, and decided to go for it anyway. "We eat cockles, too."

Jack snorted. "I prefer cocks."

John gave a wicked smirk. "Hear, hear, Big Boy."

Biting his lip, Ianto decided to be brave. "I'll vouch for that, sir."

"Woahh!" Owen held up his hands. "TMI?"

John shot him a look filled with venom.

"What?" Ianto shrugged. "He has nice dreams."

Jack sniggered into his hand, but bumped his knee against Ianto's in warning. Ianto gave him an eye-roll, avoiding eye contact with John and knowing that he was probably being sent a death glare.

"Oh stop it, John," he heard Jack laugh. "He's i_straight/i_, you jealous moron."

"Yeah," John agreed. "So was I. You want my toast, Owen? I'm not hungry."

Owen nodded over his mouthful, and snatched up the toast as John took his still pretty much full tray to the waste hatch.

"'Oo 'no," Owen managed thoughtfully. "I 'fink 'dis bread wuz stale when 'dey puh' ih' in't toastah..."

"Is stale bread bad for you?" asked Ianto.

Owen shrugged.

"I thought you were a doctor?"

"'Scuse me!" Owen scowled, swallowing. "Still am a doctor, thank you very much. And as you said: doctor. Not dietician. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen - I need to go and make sure nobody kills anybody."

Ianto glanced to the side at Jack, and noticed he was watching John's progress up to the top of the stairs. Owen made his way to the waste hatch, one eye on John and the other on where he was going.

Giving Jack a nudge to bring him back to earth, Ianto raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were over John?"

"I said I_ ithought/i_ I was over John. I dunno," he sighed. "He's ... confusing."

"How so?"

"Do we have to talk about this here?"

Ianto shrugged. "You finished your breakfast?"

Jack downed his orange juice. "Have now."

"Coming upstairs?"

"The double entendre almost bit me."

Ianto's eyes widened, then he sniggered and smirked. "Put it away," he sighed.

Jack grinned and picked up his tray to follow him and dispose of its contents. "You've forgiven me?"

"I was never in a state of needing to forgive you. I thought you needed to forgive me."

"What for?"

"Being awkward."

Trays put away, they headed towards the stairs. They were part way up the first flight when a harsh, female voice called out for Jack.

"Ahh, Ms Guppy. How might I help you?"

"You have a visitor," she scowled, as if the idea of speaking to the Captain disgusted her.

"Who?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Who do you think? That bloody i_lawyer/i. _Hurry up and get to before I write you up for slovenly behaviour," she threatened, eyes narrowed.

Jack sighed. "Go on up - and watch yourself. I'll be back soon."

Ianto nodded and instantly began hurrying up the stairs as fast as he could without it looking obvious. He felt strange not having Owen or Jack by his side, and they probably hadn't helped with his new fear of being anywhere alone. Stupid prison.

He halted when someone stepped into his way, and keeping his eyes down he tried to step around them. They moved to block his way again, and raising his eyes he found himself face to face with a Saxon who's name he didn't know.

"Hello," grinned the Saxon. "My name's Adam ."

Ianto stared at him and swallowed.

"On your own?" asked Adam. "I'd be careful if I were you ..."

"Yeah," nodded Ianto, trying not to appear nervous. "Oh - Hi John!" he smiled, and gave a small wave directed behind Adam. Adam turned, and found nothing but air behind him. He looked back to find that Ianto had shot off in the opposite direction and was already about to go into his cell, glancing over his shoulder with an expression Adam interpreted as 'smug'.

Ianto shut the metal door behind him, knowing he shouldn't but feeling he had to. He liked it when the door was shut - it was just him, or just him and Jack, and it was safe. He leaned with his back on the door for a moment, took a deep breath, then went to sit on his bunk. With a sigh he lay his head back on his pillow and stared at the mattress above him, losing himself in thought.

He wondered what Jack would be seeing his lawyer about, and sincerely hoped he wouldn't be fighting a successful appeal and getting out and leaving him. He'd been in prison three weeks, and already was far too dependent on him and Owen. He'd been introduced to a few people, who simply nodded to him and then carried on their conversations with Jack or Owen, and Ianto had become more and more aware of other quieter prisoners who seemed to be the same as him: never allowed anywhere alone, never spoke to anybody they didn't know, only greeted by other alpha prisoners with a nod of acknowledgement.

Ianto supposed it was for his own good, and it seemed to be working with the other prisoners. Hardly anyone on the Torchwood side of things wound up injured or cornered, whereas quieter Saxons were constantly finding themselves picked on and picked off.

Using the only real mentor:student analogy Ianto really had, he supposed he was the Padawan to Jack's Jedi. The thought made him smile to himself, before his mind wandered into creating its own X-rated lightsabre jokes.

He jumped as the door flew open with a _clang_, and sat bolt upright, narrowliy avoiding smacking his head on the supports above. Jack was in the doorway, and his expression quickly turned from worried to annoyed, and he folded his arms.

"What have I told you about shutting the door?"

"I just wanted a little privacy," Ianto replied quietly.

"Ianto ... I saw this door closed and nearly went out of my i_mind/i._ You know what a closed door means to a cell mate on the other side of it?"

Ianto shook his head, and Jack moved to kneel in front of him. "It means something's i_happened/i. _Something's not right. For all I knew, a Saxon had got you and dumped you here. That's what the closed door means."

Ianto blinked. "I ... I'm sorry, sir."

"If you want privacy, just push it to. Leave it open ajar. Never fully close it unless I'm in here."

"Sorry."

Jack sighed and pulled himself up to sit on the bed beside him. "You've got a lot to learn, SilverFish. Can't expect you to pick it up all at once."

Ianto scowled. "You know, 'Ianto' contains less syllables than that stupid nickname."

Jack leaned back on his elbows. "I know," he grinned, and reached up to pinch his nose. "but it doesn't make that cute little scowl appear, does it?"

Ianto batted his hand away, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged. "Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose."

"... what did Owen say to you?"

"That you're straight. I take it too far. You're uncomfortable. You don't like it," Jack reeled off shortly. His body language remained open, however difficult it was for him.

"Mm," Ianto nodded, and stared at the top of his right knee. "I'm sorry."

"Will you i_stop/i_ apologising for /i_everything/i_?" Jack snapped.

Ianto had to bit his lip to stop another 'sorry' escaping his mouth. "I ... I ... um. Afterwards," he continued, pressing on. "You ... you touched me. And you said 'that's all I needed to know'. What ... what did you mean ...?"

"Look," sighed Jack. "If you want to deny yourself what you really want, that's your business. Just make sure you don't lead anybody on by ... I don't know ... letting them touch you, letting yourself get hard and then snatching everything away?"

"I didn't mean to! I didn't realise ... I'd already talked about ... to Owen. And then you ... and I ... I didn't think ... It was just bad timing!"

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly.

"I didn't know I'd like ... y'know ..." Ianto murmured, blushing slightly, his eyes set firmly anywhere except on Jack.

The Captain regarded him for a long moment, then tipped his head back and sighed. "Close the door," he ordered.

"You said ... ?"

"I said when I'm not in here. Now close the door."

Ianto was suddenly very, very nervous. He did as he was told, and lingered by the exit.

"Come sit back down," Jack offered, patting the bed beside him and sitting up until he could rest his elbows on his knees. Again, Ianto did as he was told. He took in a sharp breath as Jack raised his hands to the top of his fastened boiler-suit buttons.

"What are you doing?" he asked, flinching back. Jack didn't reply, and undid the first popper then the second, slowly and drawing it out.

"Tell me when to stop ..." he whispered, and Ianto tried to suppress a shiver. He lowered his eyes and watched Jack's fingers popping open the third, fourth and fifth buttons, his fingers brushing over the white undershirt and making Ianto's skin tingle beneath. Ianto's breathing became louder and shorter in anticipation, the sixth button popping open, then the seventh and then ...

"Look at me," Jack muttered, and Ianto raised his eyes to him. He felt the final popper jump apart beneath Jack's fingers, warm breath ghosting over his face as Jack moved closer. An arm snaked around his shoulders and pulled him back slightly, supporting him as the Captain practically cradled Ianto to him. Ianto held his gaze, his mouth dry, waiting for Jack's hand to slip lower and touch him.

His waistband tightened as Jack slipped his first few fingers below it, and Ianto gasped when he felt them touch the head of his erection. Jack didn't stop, pushing his hand down further until he had him in a firm grip, and he squeezed gently. Ianto's eyes rolled shut and he arched his back, his lips parting as he fought to draw in air. He writhed a little, Jack watching him intently. Prising his eyes open, he saw Jack removing his hand and pressing the tip of his middle finger to Ianto's lip. It took Ianto a second to figure it out, and parted his lips after a moment or two.

Jack moved his finger in and out between Ianto's lips before pulling it out with a pop. He slid his hand back inside the boiler-suit, and Ianto pulled in a sharp breath.

"Look at me," Jack muttered again. "Relax."

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, Jack's fingers brushing over his erection, his breath sharp and quick and getting faster. The hand went further down, pressing in between Ianto's legs and he bit his lip hard. Jack teased him a bit before finally pressing down with a small amount of force, touching Ianto's hole and watching him arch, out of breath and panting. He pressed a little harder, using more pressure as Ianto was finding it difficult to relax and making his entrance tighter.

Ianto could feel the burn a little already as he stretched the little way required for Jack's finger to enter him. He made a slightly strangled sound as he felt the tip slip inside, and his toes curled involuntarily.

"Stop!" he gapsed. "No ... no ... stop ..."

Jack's eyes slid shut, and he leaned his forehead against Ianto's for a second. "Okay."

Carefully he removed his hand, then let out a heavy sigh as he lay back on the bed.

Ianto's hands shook as he tried to fasten up his buttons, his breath slowly coming back. He stole a glimpse of Jack, lying on his back, staring up at the mattress above him. Taking a deep breath, Ianto pulled himself closer and lay down with his head on Jack's chest, tentatively relaxing when Jack didn't move. An arm, just as tentative as he had been, eventually rested around him.

"It wasn't ... you," Ianto said quiet. "It's just too fast. I'm not ready."

Jack's hand squeezed his shoulder. "Okay. I understand. But ... you do like me, though?"

"I ... yes," he admitted. "But ... Jack ... I don't think ... y'know ...John's still here. He's still with you. I can't ... do anything if he's still with you."

"He's leaving next month. On the tenth."

"So you'll wait until then?"

"As long as I can still sleep with John."

Ianto tensed, then sat up. He was pretty certain that Jack had just rolled his eyes behind him, so he turned and glared. "What the hell?"

"You can't expect me not to sleep with John if you're not putting out!"

Ianto was pretty sure his jaw just dropped. "So what ... we're just fuck toys to you?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"How else could you have meant it?" Ianto fumed, getting to his feet. Jack sat up, holding up his hands.

"Calm down! I simply meant there's no point splitting up with John if-"

"There is a point! I thought you liked me?"

"I do! That doesn't mean I won't bring myself to have sex with John!"

"You don't like John!"

"That doesn't mean I don't love him," Jack replied, sounding exasperated.

"I ... i_what/i? _You said you didn't love him!"

"I said I didn't think I loved him! Huge difference!"

Ianto folded his arms. "How can you not like someone you love?"

"Oh ... c'mon, Ianto! What do you know about the world? You're what ... twenty?"

"Twenty-two."

"You don't even know who _you_ are - how can you even pretend to understand me or my relationship?"

Ianto's mouth opened and closed a few times, but he chose not to say anything. Jack filled the gap.

"Whether I like you or not - and God knows why I like you - you don't have any jurisdiction over me or what I do - or even _who _I do for that matter. Just because we like each other doesn't mean that I'm your boyfriend or partner or whatever - I'm not yours. I'm not John's! I'm not _anybody's_!"

Ianto frowned at him for a moment. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Jack blinked, and looked momentarily confused. "I ... I'm ..." He cleared his throat. "I can do what I like."

"Yeah? Well with _that_ attidtude, you ain't doing me," Ianto sighed. "I'm going to Owen's."

He turned to the door, and yelped when Jack's hand closed tighty around his arm. "Don't you dare tell Owen what we did!"

Ianto turned, but instead of seeing angry, he saw pleading. "What?"

"Please - don't tell Owen what we did. I promised him I wouldn't ..."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "So you do what you like and who you like ... as long as it's okay with Owen?"

Jack thought for a second, then a small smile pulled at his lips. Ianto couldn't help but smile back, and then Jack laughed at the absurdity. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, serious again.

"Ianto ... I ... I'm a complete bastard. You i_have/i _to know that."

"I think I already do."

Jack searched his earnest face for a moment, then let him go. "I'm too old to change - and you're too young to just accept me as I am. I don't want to be the one to break your heart when you realise how truly ugly love is."

"No one said we had to fall in love, Jack. Maybe fuck buddies would be good for us - after John leaves."

Jack let out a disbelieving snigger. "As if you'd ever let yourself be i_just/i_ a fuck buddy ..."

Ianto made a playfully indignant sound. "I happen to be very well acquainted with the idea of casual sex, I'll have you know, i_sir/i_."

Jack smirked. "Sure you are - or is a foray into the world of kinky casual sex where the 'sir' comes from?"

Just once, Ianto wished he wasn't so pale even the slightest flush was obvious. He wished he was more confident and less nervous about talking about 'these things'. He wished he wasn't embarrassed, but wishing didn't stop Jack grinning at the slight colouration creeping down from his temples and knowing he was doing his best to appear on a level playing field.

"Out of my way," he pouted, trying to push Jack away from the door so he could get out. "I promise I won't tell on you."

Reluctantly, Jack moved and sat on Ianto's bed, reaching up to pull his book down from beneath his pillow. "See you later," he smiled.

"Mm," nodded Ianto.

center~*~*~*~/center

Ianto had spent pretty much the rest of the morning in Owen's cell, beating him at poker until he had no more cigarettes left. Owen had been surly and indignant, and Ianto had just grinned, counting the cigarettes out just to make a point.

"How did you get so good at poker?" Owen grumbled.

"I used to play with my dad and granddad when I was a kid. They considered themselves champions, so beating them was all the sweeter."

"Mm," scowled Owen.

The buzzer that signified lunch was ready for collecting sounded from the cafeteria, and Owen started putting the cards away. "What are you doing?" he asked, seeing that Ianto was handing him his large roll of cigarettes back.

"I don't want 'em," shrugged Ianto.

"You could trade them for hooch or porn and stuff. Keep 'em. You won 'em."

"I don't want hooch or porn and stuff. You keep 'em."

Owen grinned. "If you insist. I'll clear this away - you go fetch Jack. I'll find where John is - it's slightly worrying that I haven't seen him since after breakfast."

"Okay," nodded Ianto. "See you in a minute."

He left Owen's cell and walked the short way to his own, pausing when he saw the door was only left open a few inches. He figured Jack must still be reading, so pushed open the door and entered.

He froze.

Jack certainly wasn't reading.

He was lying on his back, and John was there, lying between his legs. They were both naked and sweating, eyes closed as they kissed deeply, John's hips rising and falling as Jack arched and grunted into his mouth. John's angle changed subtly, and Jack bit John's lip and raised his legs to wrap and link around his middle.

Ianto was transfixed.

His mouth was dry, and his breathing was turning heavy - his unsatisfied lust from earlier flaring up again a little too quickly, making him subconsciously bite down on his lip in hope of the pain possibly distracting him. He took a step backwards when Jack and John's kiss broke, John working his way down Jack's neck with butterfly kisses, his pace speeding up and Jack writhing and gritting his teeth.

Ianto tried to tear his eyes away, but managed it too late. Jack's eyes opened, and their eyes met across the room. Ianto was paralysed, terrified what Jack might do now that he'd seen him. He took a step back, but Jack didn't stop John. He ran his hand up John's back, cupping the back of his head so that his face remained buried in Jack's neck and he continued biting and licking and sucking and kissing. He kept his gaze locked on Ianto, arched his back a final time and came, letting out a sharp cry and never looking away.

The cry snapped Ianto back to his senses, and he shuffled on his feet for a moment before shooting out the door and practically running back to Owen's cell.

"Woah! Ianto!" Owen exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his skin. "What the hell?"

"Erm ... I found John?" he laughed weakly.

"Oh good - he hasn't killed anyone has he?"

Ianto shook his head. "Nope." His voice came out a little too high, and Owen frowned at him.

Then it clicked.

Owen sniggered. "You didn't walk in on them did you? Did you? You i_did/i?_ Hahaha! Oh dear God, what I would have paid to see your face!"

Ianto hung his head, trying to hide his blushing.

"Did they see you?"

Ianto clamped his mouth shut, and raised his eyes. He nodded slightly and Owen burst out laughing. "I bet John's gonna go mental!"

"John didn't see me. Jack did."

Owen was still sniggering. "That's not so bad then - I bet he even enjoyed it."

Ianto remembered the look on Jack's face as he came and drew in a sharp breath. He decided it was probably best to go with Owen's flow and make light of the situation. "I'm gonna be scarred for life now," he joked.

"I'd bet," Owen grimaced. "I walked in on them sucking each other off once."

"Must have been traumatising - but at least they weren't doing it ini _your/i _bed."

"Sick bastards - But least if they fall off they won't injure themselves. Forward thinking and all that."

"Them injuring themselves wouldn't put me off my lunch, though, would it?"

"Depends - what if they landed on you?"

Ianto pretended to think about it. "Y'know ... if it was Jack ... I could live with that."

"Ew." Owen scrunched his face up.

Ianto grinned at him. "I'm hungry," he complained, remembering lunch. "Shall we just ... go without them?"

"Without who?"

Jack appeared out in the doorway, leaning casually in the frame. He entered the cell, and gave Ianto a playful smack on the backside when he wasn't looking.

Ianto nearly leaped a mile into the air. "Jack! I wasn't expecting that then!" he snapped.

Jack grinned at him."Neither was I," he winked. "Anybody hungry?"

John appeared, leaning in the door frame with one leg crossed over the other and his arms folded. "I'm always hungry for more," he smirked.

Jack grinned at him. "Hold the drink - John's had plenty."

Owen made disgusted sounds. "You're a sick man, Harkness."

Ianto stared at the floor. "Can we just go and get food, please?"

"Sure," grinned Jack, turning. "Come on, then!"

center~*~*~*~/center

Ianto had remained quiet throughout lunch, inputting very little to the idle conversation itself and laughing along only half-heartedly. Today's meal wasn't too bad, if he was honest. Cornish pasty and steak-cut chips, piping hot and actually smelling delicious. Ianto had taken a few minutes trying to figure out if the meat inside was really meat before his stomach decided it didn't care anymore and persuaded him to eat it anyway.

They were half way through when a long, continuous buzzer and and a claxon rang out at a defeaning volume frome every speaker in the entire building.

Ianto instinctively covered his ears. "What the hell isi _that/i_?" he shouted over the noise.

Jack looked excited. "Breakout! C'mon, we'll go to the courtyard - see if we see anything!"

The entire room was surging in the direction Jack was pulling him in, and Ianto resisted. "Won't we get in trouble?"

John guffawed. "I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Eye-Candy!"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I plan on actually getting out of here," he pointed out.

John tutted. "C'mon, Jack. It's more fun without him anyway." He turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Jack shrugged at Ianto and Owen, then followed him. Owen looked like he was about to go, too, and Ianto caught his arm. "You're not supposed to-"

"I'm going back to my cell!" Owen yanked his arm away.

"Oh ... sorry."

"Calm down, will you?"

"Yeah, sorry," nodded Ianto, and they abandoned their lunches so that they could get as far away from the over-excited foray to the exits as fast as possible. There was nobody on the stairs, thankfully, and they had a clear run up to their cells.

Ianto sighed and pushed the door half-way shut, then turned to the bunk beds. He saw his sheets messy and rumpled, and the memory of what Jack and John had done in his bed came back and hit him. His eyes unfocussed as he remembered, Jack writhing beneath John, legs wrapped around him, hands gripping his shoulders and nails scratching - and his expression ... The look on his face of total and complete ecstasy, as if there couldn't possibly be a much more wonderful and pleasurable feeling in the world than having John inside him, doing what he was doing ...

Coming back down to earth when his memory of Jack opened his eyes and caught him staring again, Ianto crossed to his bed and inspected the sheets. Sure enough, the awful brown cover had a semi-transparent white stain smeared where Jack had wiped himself off. There was also a patch on the flat sheet where they had been ... joined.

He could instantly tell what this was supposed to be - from John's point of view as well as Jack's.

John was claiming Jack.

Jack was asserting his independence and free will.

Ianto sighed. i_Men/i_, he thought. He pulled up his sheets, smirking to himself, and switched them around with Jack's. He swapped the whole pillow instead of bothering with the palava of getting the pillows out of the cases and back in again and lay down on his newly-made bed.

Except it wasn't quite so newly-made.

Layihg his head down, Ianto found himself instantly surrounded by the scent of Jack's shower gel, his sweat and something else of his that Ianto coudln't identify. He breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, burrowing his nose further into the pillow and drowning himself in the intoxicating smell that he was more than certain was Jack - sweaty, unwashed from sleep and ... and the Something Else.

Ianto closed his eyes. The scent was strong, and if he imagined hard enough he was sure it could feel like Jack was with him - with him in bed, not outside getting into trouble with John. His memory recreated the ghosting touch of Jack's fingers on his chest as the buttons of his boiler-suit came free, and Ianto found himself replicating the action, slowly and deliberately unfastening and unfastening until he reached the final one, pushed his hand inside his underwear and felt a zing of pleasure.

He used his full hand to grip himself, shifting onto his side, wondering what it would be like to lie here like this with Jack moulded into his back, holding him tightly to his chest while he played with him.

Outside, Ianto could vaguely hear the whoops and cheers of inmates, chanting incoherently in support of whoever the runner was. He couldn't hear much about what was going on, and as he touched himself and pleasured himself he totally forgot about anything other than what his body could feel and Jack's surrounding scent.

He'd been horny all day, practically, so when he finally came it was much more satisfying than the last time he had decided to masturbate in here. Ianto lay still for a moment, before steeling himself and turning over to reach for a tissue.

"I could help you with that," suggested Jack, leaning on the closed door behind him and smirking in satisfaction.

Ianto jumped so violently the bunk bed nearly toppled over, and he pulled his covers up to his chin with his clean hand as he turned bright, bright red.

Jack was still smirking, though he was definitely hiding his amusement. "Guess we're even now, huh?"

Ianto stared at him and nodded slowly.

The Captain's smirk changed into a grin, and he crossed the room to sit on the floor by his bed. "Give me your hand?" Ianto didn't move, so Jack pulled it towards him anyway and started licking and sucking at his fingers and palm, Ianto watching him transfixed and not even looking away when Jack raised his eyes to him as he worked.

"All clean," he said quietly, giving Ianto a smile. "Utch over - let me get in."

"No!" Ianto shook his head violently.

Jack ignored him and climbed under the sheets anyway, wrapping himself around Ianto so that he would fit onto the tiny bed. Ianto was so tense he was practically rigid, but Jack's arm draping over his waist and head resting on his shoulder prevented him from bolting for the door. Jack, however, didn't seem to be doing anything other than lying there, and cautiously Ianto allowed himself to relax into his embrace, only to tense again when Jack moved, lifting up the covers and looking down. Ianto was all ready to curl up foetally and silently panic as the Captain's hands touched his crotch, only to find himself more than just a bit surprised when the waistband of his underwear was pulled back up to cover him and the buttons carefully refastened to just below his chest.

Jack relaxed over him again, raising his head only slightly when the i_clang/i_ and i_scrape/i_ of a key in the cell door lock grated through the room.

"What've they locked us in for?" Ianto asked.

"There was a breakout, so we're all punished."

"What about food?"

"They'll bring something up. No socialising - confinement for three days usually."

"Three days?" Ianto asked, having to be held down by Jack when he tried to sit up in surprise.

"Yup - three days. Just you and me in this room - for three days. Can't say I'm disappointed. I was thinking we could have a new motto - 'what happens during lock-in, stays during lock-in'. Whaddya think?"

"I'm thinking 'no'."

Jack sniggered, and squeezed him gently. "Didn't think so."

Ianto shifted slightly to get more comfortable with Jack still draped over him. He sensed Jack about to open his mouth again, so cut him off and changed the subject. "How's your book going?"

"No different to the last time I read it," grinned Jack.

"Do either of the two guys get their straight man in the end?"

"The straight man murders one of them before the end."

"Why?"

"Anger," shrugged Jack. "He gave him some advice that he didn't want to hear."

"Oh ..."

They were quiet for a while, until eventually Jack stretched and moved up a little so that his head was on the pillow next to Ianto's. Ianto shifted, too, so that Jack had more room since he clearly wasn't planning on getting out of his bed any time soon. He arranged the covers over them, and again they lay quietly.

Ianto could feel Jack playing with a stray thread on the waistband of his jumpsuit, the rise and fall of is chest against him as he breathed and the warm breath moving over his cheek. Closing his eyes, he felt himself properly relax, his lids heavy and Jack's breathing slowing and regulating as he fell asleep wrapped around Ianto.

Starting to get uncomfortable on his back, Ianto turned onto his side and Jack snuffled and spooned into his back without prompting, even in his sleep. Ianto found his presence invasive but comforting at the same time, but he didn't even bother wondering if he'd be able to get out of bed without waking Jack, or what Jack's reaction would be if he woke up alone and found Ianto in his bunk.

Finally, Ianto was starting to drift off, not caring that it was only just gone lunch time and a nap would throw his sleep pattern off. Jack squeezed him tighter, and Ianto automatically lowered his hand to cover Jack's on his tummy.

Contentedly, he joined him in his deep sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Ianto woke up gradually, his awareness slowly coming back. For the first time since he'd been here, the moment of confusion before he realised where he was didn't happen - he was pretty much certain of where he expected to be.

Jack was still pressed against his back, and Ianto opened his eyes slowly, muddled with sleep. He'd awoken because he was too hot, and his boiler suit clung to his sticky skin as he realised he was sweating. He wasn't in any rush to move, though.

Slowly pushing the covers further down the bed until they were hanging off the end and not covering him any more, Ianto breathed a sigh of relief. Already it was better, and he could finally concentrate on the feel of Jack behind him, in bed with him, and sleeping.

They'd shifted slightly as they napped, and now Ianto's head was resting on Jack's bicep, the side of Jack's face resting against the back of his head and other arm now loosely draped over Ianto's middle and chest. Ianto lost himself in adolescent thoughts about how their bodies seemed to just fit together - from their heads, to where their bodies curved around and against each other, to where thigh rested alongside thigh and ankles crossed - before remembering himself and almost laughing at his own very much teenage musings.

He could feel Jack's chest rise and fall against his back, the rush of warm air as it escaped against the back of his head, the heavy weight of muscled arm resting over him - and the definite outline of something hard and hot pressing into the flesh of his buttock.

That was good.

Ianto liked that.

He lay there in Jack's arms, his mind wandering as it usually did when he found himself with nothing much to do. He wound up thinking of John and Jack, and how they had been and how they had interacted those first few times Ianto had glimpsed them from afar. Playfighting, laughing, always with a smile for each other; now only a shadow of that seemed to remain. Perhaps Jack was right - he had suggested his relationship with John was circumstantial, and now that circumstances had changed so had their reasons for being together. By default that meant that anything he might share with Ianto would also be circumstantial, just as quickly questioned and ... just as quickly made obsolete.

Jack shifted in his sleep a little, and Ianto tensed, hoping he wouldn't wake up. The Captain settled again, and slowly and carefully Ianto lifted Jack's arm and inched himself around until they were facing each other. He propped his head up on his hand and rested his other hand on Jack's chest, feeling the rise and fall and the steady heartbeat reverberating behind the soft white cotton t-shirt.

It was strange.

Ianto knew what those hands felt like on his body, how strong those arms were when they held him and how good those fingers could feel - and all without having a clue what Jack's lips would feel like on his; what his mouth would taste like; how he would kiss him ... how he would kiss him back. Curiosity piqued, and Ianto bit his lip.

Slowly, he leaned forward a little, and keeping his eyes fixed on Jack's eyelids he quickly pressed their lips together gently and pulled back. Jack didn't stir.

Ooo. He'd liked that.

Something in his brain had buzzed the moment their mouths made contact, and Ianto was instantly considering leaning in and doing it again. After a moment of procrastination, he brought their mouths together in an almost non-existent touch, lingering for a moment and feeling Jack's breath on his face and the warmth of the soft skin on his own lips.

Jack stirred, and Ianto managed not to jump back, instead moving his head away slowly, his heart thudding in his chest. Jack rubbed the side of his face against the pillow, moved the arm draped over Ianto and turned slightly so that he was leaning closer into him and his hand was resting on Ianto's back.

Ianto didn't dare to try again, so made himself comfortable by shuffling a little lower on the bed and draping his own arm over Jack, pulling himself even closer until he could practically snuggle against him. Jack was warm and comforting when he was calm and ... well, when he was asleep. Ianto soon felt himself slipping off again.

He probably just imagined the kiss pressed to his forehead as his eyes drifted shut.

Center~*~*~*~/center

IBANG BANG BANG BANG BANG/i

Jack and Ianto practically leaped awake, the sound of someone hammering on the door echoing around the cell and piercing their tranquillity.

Jack instantly sprang from the bed and up onto his feet as the key scraped in the lock, leaning casually by the sink as the door swung open to reveal Officer Davidson and Officer Holroyd with two medium sized cardboard boxes.

"Food," barked Holroyd. "The boxes and plates will be collected at breakfast," she informed them, shoving one box into Jack's hands and leaving the other on the floor since Ianto was still sat dazedly in bed. Turning on her heel, she slammed the door behind her and locked it again.

"Such a mild mannered woman," observed Ianto with a yawn, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed as Jack gave him a box. He opened it and grimaced. "I think this is the least appetising fish and chips I've ever had the misfortune to have to eat."

"You get used to it," Jack shrugged, sitting down next to him and shuffling back until he was cross-legged. He yawned, too. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"No," Ianto shook his head, his brief moments awake coming back to him and forcing him to avert his eyes. "Gonna throw our sleep patterns off."

"Mmmm," agreed Jack, taking his meal out of his box and expertly balancing it on his crossed legs so that he could cut up his fish without tipping the plate. Ianto frowned at him, picked up his own empty box and set it upside down on the bed, put his plate on the box and used it as a table. Jack stared at it a second.

"Why didn't I think of that?"

Ianto shrugged and popped his first chunk of fish into his mouth. "Actually ... maybe this fish isn't so bad. It just ... looks wrong."

They ate the food quickly and put their leftovers back in their boxes for collection the next day.

"So ... what do we do now?" asked Ianto.

Jack grinned.

"Noti that/i," Ianto sighed, and Jack smirked mischievously.

"Not even a little play?"

"No."

"Meanie."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I left the playing cards at Owen's," he grumbled. "What else can we do? Do we have any other board games or ... anything?"

"I have music," shrugged Jack. "and I've got my book."

"What could I do, then?"

"You seemed fine 'entertaining yourself' earlier ..."

Jack was smirking again, and Ianto felt himself colour as Jack chuckled.

"Teach me Welsh."

Ianto nearly burst out laughing. "Are you ikidding/i?"

Jack looked a little disgruntled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well ... Welsh is a very difficult and complicated language. I'm not even that good at it myself - all I know is what I learned in school, 'cause I went to an English-speaking school."

"There are Welsh-speaking schools?"

Ianto gave him a wide-eyed stare. "... why wouldn't there be?"

Jack shrugged. "So ... where abouts were you from, again?"

"Cardiff."

"What's Welsh for 'Cardiff'?"

"iCaerdydd/i."

Jack nodded as if he'd learned something impressive, and they fell awkwardly silent.

"So ..." tried Ianto. "Where are you from?"

"All sorts of places."

Ianto shrugged. "Fair enough. And how do you say that in English?"

Jack laughed, seemingly weighing him up for a moment. "California," he admitted eventually. "I moved over here when the Terminator took over and I joined the Air Force."

"Cool. I always wondered ... what's it like to fly a jet?"

A shadow passed over Jack's features for a moment. "The exact opposite of being stuck in here," he muttered, getting up from the bed and hauling himself into his own bunk. "I think I'm going to read for a bit," he called down. "And ... did you switch our bed sheets?"

"You left mine in a mess," Ianto replied, having to bite back a 'sir' and wondering what he'd done to scare Jack away. Legs appeared over the side of the bunk again, a second before Jack himself dropped down.

"Switch them back. Now."

Ianto scowled. "Well ... no."

"INow/i."

"No! It's your mess! You shouldn't have even been fucking in my bed anyway!"

"That wasi point/i," Jack said to him like he was thick.

"I don't care," shrugged Ianto. "Your mess - and I don't appreciate that tone."

"I'm sorry - what? Are you my Dad all of a sudden?" Jack sounded steady, but his face had momentarily shown his surprise.

Ianto sighed, and curled over onto his side, back to Jack. "Get over yourself."

Jack was practically fuming, grabbing Ianto's body and dragging him off his bed. Rather than protest, Ianto laughed, and Jack just got angrier. He bundled Ianto up, trying to get him onto the top bunk as he laughed even more and feigned a struggle. With great difficulty, Jack got him up there.

"Why am I up here, again?" Ianto asked, his grin cheeky and touching several of Jack's nerves.

Jack folded his arms, his teeth gritting. "You need to change the sheets back."

Ianto sighed dramatically. "You're worse than my sister's kids, you know that?" He pivoted to lie back and stretch out on Jack's bed, turning onto his front to look out of the tiny window. Angling his head slightly, he could see out further than he'd ever managed standing on the floor. "Wow ... you can see quite a way from here. All the way to the houses."

"I know," Jack replied, arms still folded and perhaps a little peeved that the subject had changed.

"They look like posh houses," Ianto said, wistful.

"Never really thought about it," Jack shrugged. "You ... you coming down from there?"

"Hmm. I dunno ..." Ianto screwed up his face as he thought about it. "I've decided that now that I'm up here, I quite like it."

"iIanto/i!"

"What?"

"Come on - get down. You're on my bed!"

"You're on my bed imost of the time/i - you've fucked in imy/i bed!"

"I fucked in your bed before you got there," Jack pointed out.

"But that was before it was my bed, and before I slept in it - though I've decided I do quite like your bed, so I might stay here."

Ianto sensed he was going to be manhandled again a second before Jack reached forward for him. "No, no, no, no, no!" he laughed, squirming away from Jack as he was dragged around in an one-hundred-and-eighty-degree pivot by his ankles. He laughed, kicking out a little but not to purposefully hurt Jack. His world turned, fingers dug into his flesh and he found himself unceremoniously dumped on his feet. Stumbling slightly he fell onto his knees, and Jack was laughing with him and offering a hand up.

Their laughter died when they realised what position they had found themselves in.

Ianto was on his knees.

His mouth was very close to Jack's crotch.

Ianto stared at his zip and fastening for a moment, before slowly and deliberately raising his eyes up over tight, white cotton t-shirt, a hint of tanned chest and up to Jack's face. His mouth felt dry as they stared at each other, the seconds stretching out endlessly. Jack slowly raised his left hand, tentatively letting his fingers graze over Ianto's cheekbone, his thumb touching his lower lip. Ianto allowed it for a second or two, before gathering his resolve and squeezing his eyes shut. He hauled himself to his feet and the moment was broken.

Stretching, Ianto made a show of checking his watch. "I think we should ... maybe we should try and get some sleep?"

Jack nodded, trying to discreetly wipe the sweat from his hands by putting them on his bunk.

"You don't want to sleep up there," Ianto told him, stretching out on his own mattress and ruffling over near to the wall.

"I think I do," Jack replied quietly.

"IJust/i sleep," Ianto insisted. "We'll just sleep like before. It was nice, wasn't it?"

"I ... yeah," Jack nodded.

"Then what's the problem?"

For a moment it seemed like Jack might say something, but thought better of it. He hesitated, then decided to say it anyway. "Can I watch you get changed into your pyjamas?"

"... you always watch me getting changed."

"Yeah ... but you always do it so ifast/i ..." Jack joked, though he sounded a little apprehensive in his request.

Ianto climbed out from his bunk, biting his lip. "Help me get changed, if you like," he suggested. "Look - but don't touch ... well ... no heavy petting," he warned.

Jack looked more than a little bit eager at the idea. "Yeah ... that could be fun," he smirked.

"If I tell you to stop, you stop," Ianto warned further, reaching up to his highest-fastened buttons and slowly and deliberately undoing the first one. Jack started yanking his own t-shirt over his head without much more prompting and stepped forward to practically rip open Ianto's boiler-suit. "Slow down," Ianto sighed.

"Sorry," Jack muttered, and slowed his actions down to an almost painfully hesitant speed, inching the coarse wool of the prison uniform down Ianto's shoulders in what felt like slow motion. Once Ianto's arms were free and the top half of the boiler suit was hanging down and leaving Ianto in his white undershirt, Jack rested one hand on Ianto's hip, moving his fingers minutely over the cotton. Slowly Jack circled until he was stood behind him, letting his fingertips drag over Ianto's stomach as he went until he could rest the hand on his other hip from the other side.

Ianto remained still, and Jack had felt in his stomach how Ianto's breathing had changed, becoming heavier and hitching slightly as fingers trailed just below his navel.

Carefully, Jack slipped the fingers of both his hands just below the edge of Ianto's t-shirt, sliding his hands up and feeling soft, hot skin beneath his palms as he lay them flat on his stomach. He pulled ever so slightly, feeling Ianto give a little and allowed for Jack to press their bodies together. Ianto could feel every inch of Jack from his shoulder to his calves, and could feel every reaction Jack was having to him. He tipped his head back, and felt Jack resting his temple against the side of his head, hot breath touching his bared neck.

Jack pushed his hands further up Ianto's t-shirt, his palms still flat and trapped between the heat of Ianto's body and the restricting cotton shirt. He found the soft hair of Ianto's chest beneath his fingers, and began to slowly and tantalizingly withdraw his hands. Ianto closed his eyes, anticipation making his breath come quicker, waiting for the cold air to his his skin.

The Captain lifted his t-shirt and Ianto raised his arms, Jack making sure to tousle his hair a little more than necessary. He tossed the clothing aside to wherever he'd throw his own, and ran a hand up and down Ianto's back, watching as the muscles tensed and relaxed and the flesh pimpled in his wake.

He circled back to stand in front of Ianto again, meeting his eyes with a soft smile and slowly lowering himself to the floor. Ianto watched him carefully, his eyes dark, and Jack wondered how far he would let him go. He could see directly in front of him how much Ianto was probably aching to be touched, and began to slide the bottom half of the boiler suit down Ianto's thighs so that only one material barrier stood between him and Ianto's erection.

Ianto stepped out of the hideous clothing, and Jack tossed it aside, too. He could sense how tense Ianto was, and realised he probably wouldn't be allowed to go much further. Tentatively, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Ianto's underwear and putting firm pressure on the hard flesh underneath. Ianto gasped, but put a firm hand on Jack's hair. Their eyes met, and Ianto shook his head minutely.

Giving him a reassuring smile, Jack stood and reached for Ianto's pyjama bottoms. Ianto insisted he do it himself, taking them from him and slipping them on hurriedly. He gave an awkwardly apologetic look to Jack, and sat on the edge of his bed to wait while pulling on his pyjama t-shirt as Jack himself got changed.

Jack, being Jack, made a show of it, slowly revealing his smooth and evenly-tanned flesh before covering it up again. He finished pulling on his t-shirt, and sat beside Ianto on his bottom bunk. "Well ... that was fun," he grinned.

"Yeah," Ianto nodded, then yawned and lay down by the wall again. Impatient, he yanked Jack down by the back of his t-shirt. Jack laughed and stretched out, too, lying on his back and lifting an arm for Ianto to rest underneath it. Ianto yawned again and closed his eyes.

Jack squeezed him gently, and in ten minutes they were both asleep.

center~*~*~*~/center

It was the third and final day of the lock-in.

Jack and Ianto had managed not to argue or fight more than they usually did, and both of them could feel the sexual tension becoming an almost touchable third companion in their cell. They had carried on the 'Undress Ianto Game', as Jack called it, morning and night, and Ianto knew that if something didn't give soon, he wouldn't be able to stop Jack next time the Captain was on his knees before him, mouth slightly parted and almost begging him with his eyes to let him have a taste ...

It didn't help that they'd run out of things to do, either.

This did not help Ianto's 'No Sex Until John's Gone' ethic much iat all/i - and Jack was hardly subtle with what he wanted.

"One day," Jack had told him, both of them lying on their own bunk and staring at the ceiling after having an 'it's just fun/I'm not ready' mini-argument (arguing for the sake of something to do, if anything). "One day, I'm going to fuck you so hard against that cell door you'll forget who you are."

"I know," Ianto had replied. "And one day soon after, I'll probably return the favour."

Despite the Arguing For Something to Do, when they went to sleep they huddled onto Ianto's bunk - even after their row over 'scon' and 'scown' on Night 2 ...

i"It has a magic 'e'!"/i Ianto had yelled. i"You don't say 'con' instead of 'cone', or 'ston' instead of 'stone'!"/i

Jack had been a little stumped with that one, then folding his arms and giving Ianto the silent treatment until bed-time. "Maybe it is 'scown'," he had muttered into Ianto's sleepy ears. "But if saying 'scon' annoys you, I'm going to keep saying it."

Ianto had lifted his hand and let it fall heavily onto Jack's chest to make his point.

At the moment, Jack and Ianto were lying on their own bunks. They'd exhausted conversation, exhausted things to argue over (for now) and they'd played so many games of 'Eye Spy' that they'd exhausted things to spy - even 'Third Rivet on the Bottom Left of the Cell Door' had been done (and had taken Jack three hours to get).

"Finished my book!" Jack announced, breaking the silence.

Ianto had been staring at the bunk above him lost in thought, and blinked back into the present. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Can I read it?"

"Yeah, sure. But when lock-in's done, 'cause I don't wanna get bored with you reading during lock-in and ignoring me."

"You read it during lock-in!"

"I'd already started it, though."

"You've read it before! You said so!"

Jack laughed, and his impish grin appeared over the edge of his bed. "Read it to me, then."

Ianto pinked a little. "What?"

"Read it to me. You have a good voice for reading - I'd put money it."

"There's nothing ... erotic in it, is there?"

"Nope."

"Mm. I'll read a bit, if you want me to."

Jack passed the book down, open at chapter one, and Ianto sat up cross-legged. He cleared his throat and awkwardly began.

"iThe studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn.

From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton cou-/i"

Ianto stopped and frowned at the page. "Lord Henry Wotton?" he said, confused. "Wasn't he in iThe Picture of Dorian Gray/i?"

"Yep."

Ianto flipped to the front of the book, finding the title page.

iThe Picture of Dorian Gray/i.

"You said it was like ... a gay love story ... ?"

"I said it was ia/i love story. It's about different kinds of love."

"I've read it, and ... that's not what I took away from it ..."

"Did you never read between the lines? It's about love, as well as selfishness and hate. And it's very definitely gay."

Ianto frowned at the page. "I was thirteen when I had to read it and ... didn't pay much attention I suppose."

"Would you read it again?" Jack asked, appearing again over the edge of his bunk.

"I ... well, yes. I'm intrigued now - though I do remember Dorian Gray to be a right bastard."

Jack smiled. "Dorian's a metaphor," he explained. "Read more of it to me." His head disappeared as he settled back to listen again.

"Erm ... okay ..." Ianto cleared his throat again. "i... Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flame-like as theirs .../i"

center~*~*~*~/center

Jack quietly climbed down from his bunk and dropped to his feet, crouching down beside Ianto's bed. He'd fallen asleep while reading aloud, after copious amounts of yawning, and was now peacefully dozing on his back, the hardback book resting on his chest. Jack had left him a while, just lying on his own bed and thinking until it got too dark to see any more.

Carefully, Jack picked up the book and removed it from Ianto's arms, closed it and set it down. He returned his attention to Ianto, and jumped when he saw two pale blue eyes sleepily watching him. "Hey," Jack smiled, speaking softly. "You fell asleep, Little Fish."

"Mmmm." Ianto made a contented sound, moving his hand slightly and playing with the material covering Jack's shoulder. Jack brought his own hand to rest on Ianto's hip, and watched him as he sleepily tried to decide whether to wake up and be annoyed at the nickname or just fall unconscious again.

Through the gloom, their eyes met, and Ianto's hand hesitated by the crook of Jack's neck. Slowly, his fingers moved until he could touch Jack's face, feel the smoothness of his skin, the definition of his jaw and the softness of his lips. They were moving closer together, whether they knew it or not, and they were centimetres apart when Ianto made the first move to close the gap between their mouths.

"Don't," Jack whispered, his voice barely audible and almost cracking.

Ianto froze.

"Don't," Jack repeated. "Don't kiss me."

"Why?"

"Because if you kiss me, I won't be able to stop," he admitted, his voice getting quieter still.

Ianto frowned at him in the sparse light from the security lamps lining the fences outside. Evenutally he nodded. "Okay."

Hesitantly, Jack lifted the covers, asking permission. Ianto shuffled backward slightly in invitation, and Jack gratefully slid in beside him. He rested his head on Ianto's shoulder, moving a little further down the bed and letting Ianto hold him rather than the other way around.

Ianto rubbed his back soothingly, and they were both soon fast asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

It was really strange being out amongst people again.

In a weird way, it was like being back at school on the first day of term. Everyone met up with their friends and swapped stories of their time apart, compared how interesting said time had been and made plans for their morning social time. Ianto watched quietly from the sidelines, listening to the chatter around him as he tried to ignore the fact John and Jack weren't to be seen.

Owen and a group of others had their heads bowed together suspiciously while someone else kept a look out for guards. Ianto sidled closer slowly, hoping no one would notice. Just as he was getting in ear shot, they all straightened up and shook hands, clapping Owen on the back. They all cleared away as innocently as they could (_no wonder they all got caught,_ Ianto thought) and Ianto approached Owen.

"What are you up to?"

"Hooch," grinned Owen. "Want some? If you tell me it's for Jack I can give it you free. Just do it quick before the part of me that's so scarred from spending three days with John comes back out and turns me into a wanker again."

"Erm ... it's for Jack?"

Owen clapped him on the back. "I'll drop by later," he winked. "Now - I need to go outside."

Ianto followed him out through the crowded cafeteria, and squinted in the sunlight. "Natural light feels weird," he said, rubbing his eyes and seeing Owen do the same.

"It's the energy saving bulbs. They flicker at a high speed we can't consciously register, but too much exposure and boy do we feel it. Some people get some pretty bad chronic headaches with no clue its their lightbulbs. Don't get me started on the risks to epileptics ..."

"Are energy saving bulbs worth it, then?"

Owen thought for a moment. "Humans will harden to them. Get used to them. In the long run it'll be better, I hope. At least we'll still have a planet."

They sat down on a patch of grass as the rest of the inmates began to filter outside, Ianto cagily avoiding questions about what he and Jack had been up to. "Reading mostly," was Ianto's main answer. "You and John?"

"Cards, arm wrestling and Who Can Resist Murder The Longest."

"Fun."

"Was Jack okay?"

"Er ... yeah. Why wouldn't he be?"

"He can be a bit over-bearing at times, is all."

Ianto knew what he was getting at, and reassured him, "He was fine, Owen. We had an okay time."

"You didn't ... ?"

Ianto made an exasperated sound. "Why are you so keen for Jack to fuck me?"

Owen shrugged. "If he's on your arse, he's off mine."

Ianto gave him a sidelong glance. "... you haven't, have you?"

"Haven't what?"

"Oh my God - you have!" Ianto grinned. "You slept with him!"

"Keep. Your. _Fucking_. Voice. Down!" Owen warned, and Ianto snapped his mouth shut, but managed to keep his smirk. Owen glanced around warily, then leaned in to whisper. "It was a one-time thing, and neither of us acknowledge that it happened. Got that?"

"Yeah ... okay," Ianto agreed. "So ... what was he like?"

Owen raised an eyebrow. "You ... did you ... are you honestly saying you spent three days in solitude with Jack Harkness ... and he didn't ... y'know ... win you over?"

Ianto nodded. "I must just have more willpower than you, Owen."

"Fuck off."

He frowned when Ianto didn't retort, then followed his line of sight to see a Saxon walking toward them on his own. He looked nervous and furtive, desperately aware he was being watched by all the Torchwood lot as he walked through them. He stopped near Owen.

"Doctor Harper?"

Owen nodded, then got to his feet. "We'll go inside. Ianto - John's over there," he indicated, and without a backward glance began to make his way inside with whom Ianto labelled 'The Enemy'. He got up and folded his arms as he walked toward John.

"Morning, Eye-Candy!"

"Morning, John," Ianto sighed, sitting next to him on the grass. "Waiting for someone?"

"This is mine and Jack's spot."

"Ah."

John reclined on the grass. "So ..."

"Mm. So?"

"What was he like, then? Gentle? Rough? Considerate? Demanding?"

Ianto sighed. "I didn't have sex with him, John."

"Sure."

"I _didn't_," Ianto huffed. "_Everyone's_ assuming I did -"

"Too right they are."

"- but I didn't."

"You didn't?"

"No. I didn't."

"You ... didn't?" John repeated again, still sounding disbelieving.

"No. I. Did. Not."

"Are you sure?"

Ianto folded his arms and sounded more like a disgruntled teenager than intended when he mumbled, "Just leave it."

John sat up fractionally. "You didn't, did you?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "That's what I've been saying."

"Is there something wrong with you or something?" John asked with a smirk. "Couldn't you get it up? - not that that would be too much of a problem for Jack, but ..."

"John: leave it."

"Why should I?"

"Because you're talking about something that never happened!"

John grinned widely. "So go on then ... !"

"'Go on then' what?"

"Why didn't you sleep with him?"

"Because I have self control?"

"Ha! You might, but he doesn't!"

Ianto didn't reply, shifting to sit cross-legged and ignoring John's attempts to catch his eye.

"Come on, Eye-Candy! Just ... tell me why he didn't fuck you."

Ianto shrugged.

"He didn't even try?"

"Oh - of course he tried!"

"He's not ill, then?"

Ianto laughed. "He might be. He ... um ..." Ianto glanced around nervously and dropped his voice lower. "... he pushed me away."

If John had had a drink at that point, he'd have probably spat it out for dramatic effect. "He _what_?"

Ianto shrugged. "He stopped me," he mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.

John sat up properly, almost making Ianto jump with the speed which he moved. "He_what_?"

"He ... he stopped me. What? John!"

John was getting to his feet, and when Ianto tried to get up shoved him back down again.

"John! Where are you going! You're not supposed to leave me!"

"Fuck you, Eye-Candy," John tossed over his shoulder as he stormed away.

Ianto hugged his knees and bit his lip, feeling suddenly so very exposed. He scanned the outdoor area and spotted Alex's table, and got to his feet. He sat one the grass again close to it where he could see the entrance to the wing. John was cutting through the people milling around, purposefully striding inside with apparently tunnel vision.

"Oi! Little Fish!"

Ianto flinched, and glanced up to see who was calling him, thinking that at least being referred to as a teeny, tiny silverfish stayed between him and Jack and Owen. "Yeah?"

A large man with beady eyes was sat beside Alex, and Ianto had vaguely heard him referred to as 'Ugly Jack'.

"Surprised you can sit so comfortably," Ugly Jack taunted with a smirk, and the rest of the table tittered. Alex stopped his conversation with a raised eyebrow, but didn't intervene, waiting to see what might pan out.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "How creative and original. I'm sure no one's ever heard _that_attempt at 'funny' before."

The men around the table made 'ooooooh!' sounds, and Ugly Jack's face twisted into a grimace. "Excuse me?"

Ianto dropped his eyes to the grass, steeled his resolve, and made eye contact again. "I was saying that you're not funny. I also insinuated you were a bit stupid."

The table weren't quite sure how to react to that.

"Get up!" snapped Ugly Jack, standing up and rounding the bench.

Ianto scrambled to his feet with as much confidence and dignity as he could, standing to face Ugly Jack.

Ugly Jack suddenly looked about eight feet tall from where Ianto was standing, and Ianto was quickly wondering why he sometimes felt the need to talk and make smarmy comments when being quiet would most likely be beneficial.

"Face me like a man you fuckin' piece of shit."

"Hey!" Ianto scowled. "I resent that!"

He dodged the punch in time.

"I resent _that_, too," he added.

Something behind Ugly Jack's shoulder caught his eye, and he breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. "Heya, Jack," he beamed and waved.

Ugly Jack hesitated, then glanced over his shoulder, receiving a rather forceful knee in his balls for his guillability. After removing his knee from the most sensitive part of the male anatomy, Ianto ran for it as fast as he could, whoops and cheers following behind him with the vague sound of retching masked behind it.

He ran inside and flew up the stairs as fast as he could, hoping he wasn't grinning to himself too manically. Inside his cell he pushed the door to, leaving it slightly open, then turned and froze, not quite expecting to find John sat on his bed.

Out of breath, he struggled to speak. "Wha ... what are you ... what are you doing here?"

John smirked. "I _was_ waiting for Jack, since he's apparently disappeared," he said, lying back on Ianto's bed and relaxing. "but now you're here, so you may as well entertain me."

Ianto stifled a sarcastic laugh, then hauled himself up onto Jack's bunk and pulled_Dorian Gray_ out from under the pillow. Flicking it open to where he'd last stopped, he continued to read. The felt the bunk shift slightly as John pulled himself up from Ianto's bed.

"You're on Jack's bed," he observed.

"Yup," Ianto replied. "So?"

"He'll go mental if he catches you."

"He won't."

"And you're reading his book ..."

"He gave it me to read."

The book disappeared from Ianto's hands, John snatching it and throwing it against the wall. "He idd not!"

"John!" Ianto exclaimed. "What the Hell did you do that for?"

Ianto wriggled and slid off the bed, only to find John blocking his path to the book. John stepped into his personal space, and with a sudden uneasy feeling Ianto took an instinctual step back. "What are you doing?"

The wall hit Ianto's back, and John placed a hand either side of him to block him in.

Taking a deep breath, Ianto tried not to panic. "I think you should very carefully consider what this looks like, John ..."

Hart's eyes were cold. "What have you got that I haven't?" he asked, sounding curious but maintaining his icy tone. "What could you possibly give him that I couldn't? What could you possibly give him that I _wouldn't_?"

"He says he likes my vowels."

John laughed, and his eyes sparkled for a second. His arms dropped and he turned away. Ianto breathed a sigh of relief, before realising John had similar skills of misdirection in a fight and swung his fist straight into Ianto's face, catching him off guard. John got in another punch, landing it home just as Ianto was recovering from the first blow.

Ianto predicted John's next move of punching him in the bollocks, and managed to block it in time, reach behind and grab John's prison uniform and swing him around so that he lost his footing and went down hard. Ianto tried to back away and end it before it could get really rough, but John grabbed his ankle. Losing his balance, Ianto tumbled and John climbed on top of him, bunching up the front of his shirt in his fist as he raised his other one to land another punch.

Ianto was too quick, squirming to the left a bit and making John's fist catch the top of his arm instead and do more damage to John's hand. Ianto bucked and rolled them, getting to his feet as soon as he was on top and backing to the wall by the door, waiting for John to get up, too.

"Feisty, feisty," grinned John wolfishly. "I like that in my men, Ianto. I _like_ that ..."

"I don't care what you like. Get out."

John laughed infuriatingly. "You do care what I like, I'll bet," he replied, his voice low with an edge of danger. "I bet you've thought about it."

Ianto averted his eyes. He _had_ thought about what John might be like, but purely in a 'what would Jack like?' scenario. Not that he hadn't enjoyed thinking about it. John _was_rather attractive.

"Ah! So you _have_ thought about it! Oh, this is precious."

Ianto rolled his eyes and folded his arms, ignoring how painful his lip was. At least he wasn't going to get a black eye, at any rate.

"Have you been wondering about what I'd look like naked?" John asked, stepping back into Ianto's personal space. "How _big_ I am? How I'd fuck you? How I'd kiss you?"

"Don't be so fucking ego centric," Ianto hissed, and John laughed his infuriating laugh, raising a hand to run his fingers down the front middle seam of Ianto's boiler suit, pausing just above his cock and applying a little pressure to his abdomen.

"... and don't you just get a little spark ... right here ... when I call you 'Eye-Candy'?"

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away slightly when John leaned in. In an attempt to regain control of the situation, Ianto shoved John back as hard as he could. "Get the fuck away from me, John."

"Feisty," John repeated. "Feisty, fiery. Fiery, feisty." He played with the words in his mouth as Ianto watched him, hesitated, and dived toward him.

Ianto yelped as a fist collided with his stomach and his knees hit the floor as he was winded. John wasn't going to give up, he realised, and stuck out an arm to try and trip him. John went off balance and didn't fall, instead landing a kick in the middle of Ianto's back. Ianto cried out as John purposefully stood on his fingers, and with a growl he reached up, took hold of John's uniform and yanked down as hard as he could to drag him to the floor.

John wrenched himself free, stumbled backward, and with sicking _crack_ and _thud_ his head bounced off the edge of the sink and he hit the floor hard.

Ianto was still lying on the floor, panting as the world came back into focus. He pulled himself up to a sitting position and stared dumbfounded at John's limp body that was far too still.

Taking deep gulps of air, Ianto tried to stay calm.

"John?" he called softly. "John?"

He pulled himself closer.

"John? Can you ... can you hear me?"

He couldn't see any blood, but didn't know if he should move John, leave him as he was or put him in the recovery position. Tentatively, Ianto reached out to touch him. "If you're messing with me," he warned the unresponsive form. "I ... I _will_ ... _shit_!"

He ran his hand through his hair.

Owen.

Doctor Owen.

Leaving the cell door open slightly, Ianto bolted to Owen's cell and knocked on the closed door hurriedly.

"Busy!" Owen's voice snapped.

"It's an emergency!"

Owen pulled open the door. The Saxon he'd come inside with was stood just behind him, his shirt pulled up to his chin and a nasty wound healing grotequely just below his heart.

"Bloody Hell," Owen grimaced. "Who the fuck you been fighting?"

Ianto grabbed Owen's arm and dragged him down the row to his cell, just pointing to the floor silently.

"Fuck!" Owen gasped. "Shut that door - shut it _now_!" he ordered, crouching by John and checking his pulse. "He's alive. What the _fuck_ happened?" demanded Owen, carefully maneuvering John into recovery and trying to examine his head to check the extent of the trauma.

"He ... he cornered me ... and he ... he swung at me ... and I fought back and ... he tripped. I didn't mean to really hurt him, Owen. I didn't! I just ..."

"I know, Ianto. I know."

The cell door flew open, Jack framed in the doorway wearing his usual 'YOU SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR!' expression.

"What the _Hell_ have I told you abo- who hit y - _John_!"

Jack came to both realisations in quick succession, and fell to his knees by John's side. "What happened? Will he be okay? Who did this?"

Ianto sank down onto his bunk, trying to make himself as small as possible. Before either he or Owen could reply, Jack had pieced a little bit together. He glared at Ianto.

"What the fuck have you done?"

"Easy, Jack," soothed Owen. "John attacked him, he fought back. John tripped 'cause he's a dick and landed on the corner of the sink because he's unlucky. Ianto - chuck us a pillow."

Ianto fumbled and mumbled, reaching for his pillow and tossing it to Owen.

"He'll come 'round soon, hopefully. Let him wake when his body's ready to be conscious. Then I'll check him over properly."

Jack nodded, reaching out to brush imaginary hair from John's forehead. He sighed heavily and got to his feet, sitting beside Ianto on his bed.

"Jack ... I didn't mean to ... I didn't mean to ..."

"It's okay," Jack assured him, putting an arm around his shoulders and squeezing him. Ianto's head rolled to the side, his forehead resting in the crook of Jack's neck and bringing up his hand to hold onto Jack's other shoulder. Jack's arms were around him, and he squeezed tightly.

Once Owen had made John comfortable, he sat with his back against the wall and knees drawn up. He sighed and glanced over at Ianto and Jack, seeing Jack holding Ianto tight and protectively, rocking gently and both with their eyes closed.

_Poor John_.

Owen averted his eyes and watched the prone form before him, John's wrist in his hand so that he could monitor his pulse. He felt a twitch of the muscles, and John groaned. After a moment or so, eyes prised open.

"Fuck ... what the fuck have I been drinking?" John moaned, his eyes travelling up his arm to the wrist being monitored by Owen. "The hooch was _that_ fucked, was it?"

Owen scowled. "There ain't nothing wrong with the hooch, John. It's you that's fucked. Ianto just kicked your arse so badly you needed medical attention."

John groaned again. "Yeah ... it's coming back to me now," he mumbled. "_Fuck_."

Jack cleared his throat. "Take him back to your cell, Owen."

"I need to exam-"

"Take him back to your cell. Now. I don't want him here."

In alarm, John tried to sit up. "Jack!"

"Come on, John," coaxed Owen. "You might be a bit dizzy so lean on ... woahhhh ... careful."

John had tried to stand on his own, making his fall into Owen all the more heavier. "Jack ..." he pleaded again.

Jack glared at him. "You attacked him!" he snapped. "I told you not to even _touch_ him. You promised me you woulnd't do anything and I took you at your word! Now look - look at the bruises he'll have on his face! Look at his lip!"

Ianto felt uncomfortable. "It's okay, Jack. Really."

"Yeah," Jack sneered. "I shoulda seen the other, guy, right?"

John was fighting back tears in his eyes. "Jack!"

"Get out, John. I don't want you anywhere near me."

"Jack!" he whimpered. "Jack ... I ..."

Jack didn't reply, keeping his eyes on the floor and ignoring John completely.

John staggered forward, leaning precariously with one hand on the mattress. He tried to press his lips to Jack's lips, but Jack didn't react aside from the slightest grimace. John rested his forehead on Jack's temple intimately. "We only have three days left, Jack. Please. Don't let it all end like this."

Jack didn't reply, and Ianto bit his sore lip trying not to look.

Frustrated, John pressed his lips together in a fine line. "You think I'll remember you on the outside?" John hissed. "You think I'll be waiting? All that stuff we talked about ... you think I'll remember? You think that by the time you finally get out I'll remember how I used to get you so hard with just look? You think I'll remember how I could kiss you and kiss you for hours and hours and we'd want nothing more than each other? You think I'll remember how much I loved you?"

John grabbed the front of Jack's t-shirt, trying to make him look him in the eye.

"No," John said resignedly. "I won't remember. Not a damn thing. 'Cause this wasn't anything, was it, Jack?"

Jack finally looked at him. "This was everything, John. We were everything. But in the end, everything is nothing."

John sniffed, managing not to let any tears fall. He straightened as best he could, and Owen silently helped him out of the room, closing the door behind them gently. Jack watched their progress, and once the door was shut he sagged visibly. He tilted to the side, and let his weight pull him down so that he was lying in a heap on his side over Ianto's legs.

Ianto was still in slight shock, silently and automatically beginning to stroke Jack's hair and they remained quiet for what seemed like an age.

"So," Jack said eventually, his voice a little grated since he refused to acknowledge he had been silently crying. "That's two alpha males you've fucked up today, I hear."

"Wha-?"

"I heard about Ugly Jack out on the grass."

"Oh yeah ... that."

"I'm proud of you. I'd rather you didn't fight, but I'm proud of you for winning."

Ianto made a sound of disdain. "I ran away the first time."

"But you got the finishing blow in first - and you made him look _very_ stupid."

"He won't try again, will he?" Ianto asked, biting his lip, his hand stilling in a tangle of Jack's hair.

"Probably," Jack admitted, sitting up slowly and rubbing his face, Ianto ignoring the wet patch on his knee where Jack's head had been. "So you gotta be ready. Stick near me and we'll beat the crap out of him together."

"Mmm," Ianto nodded. "Does everyone know?"

"That you won over Ugly Jack? Of course they know. Over half the wing saw."

"Oh."

"So ... just watch your back. Now that you've had two successes, there'll be those who wanna bring you down."

"I was just lucky."

"You make your own luck. Now - how badly did John get you? Does Owen need to check you over?"

"I'm fine. Just bruising, I think."

"Let me look."

"You just wanna get me naked," Ianto complained, pushing away Jack's hands.

"Well ... yeah. But this is an opportune time since I have a legitimate reason," Jack grinned.

Ianto sighed, then nodded, hissing a little as Jack helped pull down the top half of his boiler suit then lifted up his tshirt, purposefully trailing his fingers over Ianto's skin as he raised it up. Jack hissed through his teeth.

"Punched you in the stomach? It's already bruising."

Ianto nodded, leaning forward as Jack guided him to lie on his front across his lap while he checked hi back.

"There's a footprint," Jack told him, sounding rather restrained.

"My fingers hurt, too."

"How hard did you punch him?"

"He stood on them."

Jack sighed, and tapped Ianto's shoulder to make him sit up while shuffled back to lean against the wall as he sat. He raised an arm, and Ianto lay down on his side with his head resting on Jack's thigh, a reverse of earlier.

"I hate to admit it," Jack said quietly. "but my first instinct is to defend him. To say he didn't mean it. I know he did, but ... why would I want to defend him?"

"Because you love him."

Jack was quiet a moment, before tipping his head back until it touched the wall. "Yeah," he breathed. "I did." He tutted loudly, and swept his eyes over Ianto, half naked lying on the bed. "Look at what he's done to you," he murmured, trailing fingers gently over the darkening bruise on Ianto's stomach. "But like he said: three days left. Then he's gone. Chances are he'll plead with Owen to get him sent to hospital for the last seventy-two hours so he doesn't have to suffer it."

"What was he in for?"

Jack stiffened up slightly. "He ... ah ... his wife did something. He took the flack and went down for it."

"Oh."

"Yeah. He's a good guy, deep down, y'know?"

"Will you miss him?"

"I already miss who he used to be."

"Will you miss who he is now?"

Jack thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, probably. He was still John, but ... most of it had fizzled out anyway. I'd hoped we could part as friends ... but ... not after this."

He looked down when he didn't get a reply, and found Ianto had fallen asleep, his body bruised and battered. Carefully, Jack climbed out from under him and put the blanket his sister hand sent over his naked upper half. He stood in the cell, a little at a loss with what to do now, when he spotted _Doraian Gray_ lying splayed open in the corner and tutted loudly. He carefully picked up the book, slotted it under his pillow and paused when he heard Ianto snuffle in his sleep.

He smiled to himself. One door closed, another door opened.

Carefully, Jack slid under the blanket beside him and got himself comfortable. He steadied his breathing and relaxed - if Ianto woke up, he didn't want him to realise Jack had been watching him sleeping - and let himself calm down, and began to think things over.

~*~*~*~

Ianto woke up stiff, half naked and with a heavy, dead weight sleeping on his shoulder.

"We're gonna have to stop doing this," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he shrugged his shoulder to make Jack wake up.

"Mmf," was Jack's reply, prising an eye open. "Hmm. The bruising on your face isn't too bad," he said, reaching up to curl a finger under Ianto's chin and move his head from side to side to see properly. "It definitely looks like you've been in a fight, but at least John didn't go for your eyes and your lip hasn't swollen."

"I feel like shit, though," Ianto groaned. "Ow!"

He moved stiffly to get onto his side, relieving the bruising on his back. Jack ran a hand up and down his bare arm comfortingly.

Ianto yawned. "This is a bad ache. This is a 'you just lost a fight' ache."

Jack laughed. "You didn't lose. You won."

"It doesn't feel like I won."

There was a loud knocking on the door. "Oi! You two!"

Jack sprang up from the bed, and Ianto got to his feet as fast as he could as Jack pulled open the cell door to find a thoroughly pissed off Officer Cooper stood outside.

"Yes, Officer?" asked Ianto.

"You two weren't at lunch, and there's been rumours of fighting," she snapped, in full Officer Cooper mode. She swept her eyes over Ianto's bruised torso pointedly. "Guppy and Holroyd get wind of it, you'll be worse than written up."

Jack widened his eyes for effect. "They attacked him! He couldn't have _not_ fought back. You won't tell will you?"

She sighed. "No, Jack, I won't tell. But you keep him out of trouble - and if Guppy and Holroyd do hear about it, it wasn't from me, okay? It's like they're on heat when it comes to getting you punished."

Jack grinned flirtatiously, but Officer Cooper held up her hand.

"Keep the terrible innuendo in your head, Harkness. Now - Ianto ... any more of that chocolate?" she asked sweetly.

"Here," he smiled, rooting it out from its hiding place and breaking her off half of the small bit that was left.

"Yer an angel," she grinned. "Happy endorphins are just what I need right now."

"It's not the chocolate you want, it's the compliment."

"I am very fond of them."

Jack shifted into her line of sight. "You know, you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen?"

Gwen rolled them, but smiled anyway. "You two -" she pointed threateningly, popping her chocolate into her mouth. "- are too good for this place."

Ianto laughed. "I bet you say that to all the boys who give you treats and compliments."

"I most certainly didn't say it to Owen Harper," she grimaced.

Jack and Ianto sniggered.

"Anyway - I have a job to do. Make sure you don't skip any more meals, okay?"

"We swear," Jack said, putting his hand on his heart dramatically.

Gwen left them to it, enjoying the last of her chocolate as she left their cell and headed off into the cafeteria downstairs for patrol. Jack turned back to find Ianto had put his tshirt back on and made a disappointed sound. "I was enjoying the view," he complained.

Ianto was disbelieving. "Sure. All skinny and pale and bruised and battered."

"I can work with that." He reached out and tugged Ianto's tshirt back up again, pulling so hard he got it right off over his head and half way down his arms before Ianto really realised what was happening.

"Jack!"

Jack shrugged and continued tugging it down his arms. Ianto struggled a little for effect, laughing a little until he was free of the cotton. "If you get to look, I get to look," he reasoned, biting his lip a little shy and slipping his fingers under the hem of Jack's t-shirt. Jack glanced over his shoulder to make sure the cell door was properly shut, and raised his arms with a flirtatious smile.

Ianto let himself look properly for the first real time. He tentatively reached out, touching a long, thin scar that started just above the swell of Jack's hip and carried on sloping backwards until it disappeared behind the curve of Jack's middle round to his back. The edge were ragged, as if it had been made by a slash rather than a cut or a slice. "What happened?" he asked.

"I fell," shrugged Jack. "I wish it was a more interesting story ... but ... no. I fell on a jagged rock."

"Ouch."

"Here," Jack indicated taking Ianto's hand and guiding his fingers to another scar on his pectoral, feint and tiny, just below the nipple. Ianto applied a little pressure to it as he ran the pad of his finger over it, feeling the contrast to the smooth skin around it.

"What's this one?"

"Crazy bitch with sharp nails got a little ... grippy in the middle of things."

"Ewww."

"I know - sex with girls. Disgusting, isn't it?"

Ianto laughed. "Not really. But ... she left a _scar_?"

"Grippy Gabby I nicknamed her. Her name wasn't Gabby though. Not sure what it was. Something I couldn't think of an alliteration to, anyway." He lifted Ianto's fingers from the scar. Without breaking eye contact, he began to pull down the lower-half of his boiler suit.

There was a banging on the door.

Jack bit back a growl, let go of Ianto's hand and opened the door slightly to see who it was. "Owen!" he pronounced cheerfully, letting him all the way in.

"Why weren't you two at lunch?" he asked. "There are rumours _flying_ Jack. It's not so bad within Torchwood, but if a Saxon gets wind of it you're both up shit creek without a paddle. Jesus, Ianto - was that John?" He stared at Ianto's torso for a moment.

"I'm all right, aren't I?" Ianto asked worriedly.

"Yeah, just regular bruising. Just didn't expect you to be quite so done up."

"I told you I was crap in fights."

"Here - I brought you some good stuff." Owen produced a glass milk bottle filled with a strange, amber-but-pink liquid.

Jack grinned. "Excellent!" and secreted it away behind the column of the sink.

"Mm. Anyway: someone's reported him to Guppy. Though I'd drop it off before-"

"HARPER!"

"Nice knowing ya, kid," Owen muttered, and stood aside and darted off as Alice Guppy pushed past him.

"Officer Guppy," Jack greeted disdainfully.

"Don't think I don't know this is all your fault, Harkness!" she snapped shortly, and carried on without allowing him to interrupt her. "Putting him up to fight - what sort of mentality is this? You're doing twenty-four hours isolation, the pair of you!"

Jack's eyes widened. "What? But-"

"If it was up to me it would have been more! But no - apparently we have 'standards'," she grumbled. "Out, Harper," she ordered, and stopped in ther doorway herself. "I warning you now, Harkness; Jones. This wing is about to undergo serious reform, so unless you want to find yourself split up you'd better start behaving like model prisoners. Understand?"

Ianto stepped forward. "Yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry we bothered you, Ma'am."

She looked between the two of them, something softening. "Be _careful_," she advised, her tone still clipped. She lowered her voice. "You know Emily hates you, Jack. She's on for any excuse. Just ... imagine what it would be like to be so close, to see him every day, and not even be allowed to touch him, or smile at him, or look too long?"

Jack and Ianto stared at her.

"Every day at work, I go through that," she told them, "I couldn't imagine living that way." Then she stepped back and slammed the door shut, yelling, "_Twenty-four hours, and you better had be bloody sorry, Jack Harkness!_"

"I don't understand," Ianto said distantly, as he and Jack stared at the door. "Was she just ... nice to us?"

"I think ... I think she just did us a favour ..."

"What ... what do we do now?" asked Ianto, very aware they were both half naked and finding himself unable to think of much more than the feel of rough scar tissue contrasting to smooth, warm skin beneath his fingers.

Jack grinned, and Ianto smiled back. Jack took a step closer, and Ianto pulled him into his personal space, a hand on his hip bringing them within millimetres. So close together their smiles faded as their hearts pounded in their chests and breathing deepened. Jack tipped his head forward slightly, closing his eyes, and Ianto felt his own flutter closed as the tip of Jack's nose touched his.

They touched their noses together again, laughig a little into their eskimo kiss as Jack rubbed his nose side to side.

"Jack!" Ianto chuckled, and opened his eyes to look at him. Jack smiled, reached up and cupped the side of his face, thumb running over his sideburn.

"You ready?"

Ianto took a deep breath. "Yes."

Jack's eyes drifted closed, and he touched their foreheads together. They stayed still a moment, breathing the same air. "Help me with the mattresses," Jack said, and left him to start pulling the mattress from the top bunk.

Ianto helped pull both of them off, and they managed to fit them side by side on the cell floor. They arranged their pillows and blankets, and from the battery compartment of his stereo Jack produced a bottle of lubricant and a condom with a cheeky grin. "You're not the only one who gets care packages, you know. You gonna be okay?" Jack asked, concerened and indicating Ianto's bruising as they stood at opposite sides of the makeshift bed.

"I'm sure I'll forget about it," Ianto replied, his mouth dry.

Jack smiled. "Okay ... okay."

They both took simultaneous deep breaths, and laughed nervously when they noticed.

"So ..." said Jack.

"So ..." said Ianto.

They waited a moment, tense, waiting to see what the other would do. Eventually, Ianto moved first. Kicking off his trainers and pulling off his socks, he slid his thumbs into his waistband, let the last popper ping apart and raised his eyes to Jack.

Jack swallowed, and took his shoes and socks off while Ianto began pushing his clothes down his legs and stepping out of them. Jack had somehow managed to do the same in lightning speed, and the only thing either of them were wearing now was their underwear, and they stood separated by the expanse of mattress between them.

Again Ianto made the first move. He sank to his knees and crawled across the bed, Jack watching him with dark eyes. He stopped before him and kneeled up, and Jack carded fingers through his hair, trailing them down until he could curl a finger under Ianto's chin and raise his head slightly. Ianto maintained the eye contact, raised his hands and tugged down the cotton waistband, pulled the underwear down Jack's thighs and waited for him to step out of it.

He lowered his eyes to directly in front of him and swallowed.

Tentative, he leaned forward and brushed his lips to the base of Jack's cock. Jack tipped his head back to breathe, then dropped it forward again to watch as Ianto poked out his tongue slightly a trailed it up to the tip of his erection.

"Wait a moment," Jack managed to say, though it came out as more of a grunt. He lay down, half on his side, propped up on one hand and knee bent.

"Jack," Ianto breathed. "Jack ... I've never done this before."

"I know. Just ... do whatever you want."

Ianto stared down at the mattress in front of him. His voice was so quiet Jack barely heard him. "I didn't like it."

"What?"

"I ... it tasted ... I dunno."

"Oh. It's ... you get used to it, y'know?"

Ianto thought about it a moment. "Let me try again."

Well ... Jack wasn't gonna argue.

Ianto moved to lie on this front and gently wrapped his fingers around Jack's cock. He wet his lips with his tongue and guided it into his mouth, sliding it in as far as he could take and moving his tongue a little for extra friction as he sealed his lips around it and slowly started to pull back. He tried it a few more times, Jack tipping his head back trying to remember how to breathe.

"Jack?"

Jack came back down to earth. "You don't like it?"

Ianto shook his head.

"Doesn't matter. Come here."

Jack sat up and pulled Ianto toward him, their foreheads touching and their legs tangled together. He traced Ianto's bottom lip with his thumb and leaned forward slowly, feeling Ianto tense in anticipation.

Their lips touched, and Ianto melted. Their tongues touched and there was nothing but Jack.

Ianto felt himself tugged down gently and went with it, finding himself on his back, his head resting in the crook of Jack's arm and their legs tangling together. He brought his hand up and ran his fingers through the hair at the base of Jack's neck, scratching slightly and making him shiver. He had no qualms about Jack's hands wandering lower and lower, eventually palming his erection through his underwear and pressing down until he moaned into Jack's mouth.

Carefully, Jack began to tug down Ianto's shorts, running his hands over as much skin as he could. He broke the kiss as he Ianto managed to get his feet out and smiled down at him, tossing them aside. Ianto smiled back, looking perhaps a little dazed, and then pursed his lips slightly for a moment, begging to be kissed again. Jack leaned down and kissed him some more, smiling into his mouth when he felt him squirming and wriggling, trying to rub himself against Jack's leg.

Jack shifted, lying between Ianto's legs and rolling his hips as he started kissing him again, feeling nails dig into the backs of his shoulders and Ianto pushing his own hips up to meet him. Pleasure sparked through Ianto's body and he gasped, pushing up harder.

Breaking for air, Jack began to kiss his way down Ianto's jaw and neck, stopping at his shoulder. "So ... how do you wanna do this?" he asked.

"Erm ... ?"

"Well ... it's be easiest for you if you were on your front - but then I won't be able to see your face when you're coming."

"Is that important to you? To see my face when I'm coming?"

Jack averted his eyes and nodded a little shyly.

"I'll stay on my back then," Ianto smiled, and Jack returned it warmly.

"Okay ... okay you just relax."

Jack reached for the lubricant and squeezed a little onto his hand. He supported Ianto's head on his other arm and leaned down to kiss him, sliding his middle finger down between this thighs and touching the small entrance hidden there. Ianto's breath hitched and his kiss became desperate as he felt Jack's finger begin to push inside him and press into that sensitive bundle of nerves.

He winced in pain when a second finger pressed inside, too. Jack asked him if he was all right, and he answered by reaching down between his legs to grasp Jack's wrist and push his fingers further inside. Jack nipped his earlobe playfully and pressed his fingers harder, pulling them out nearly all the way and slowly pushing them back in again. He dragged his teeth over Ianto's collar bone when his head had tipped back, feeling him tensing and relaxing around the fingers inside him.

Ianto groaned when Jack decided he was ready and pulled his fingers out.

"Wanna put this on me?" he asked, pushing the foil packet into Ianto's hand. Ianto ripped open the seal and pulled out the condom as Jack kneeled up before him. Carefully, Ianto rolled the condom down Jack's cock and gave it a squeeze. Jack hissed then laughed, shoving him away playfully. Ianto lay down on his back, and Jack moved the pillows so that they were under and around his head, making sure he was comfortable.

Jack's cock felt a lot bigger when it was bluntly pressing inside him than when he had held it only a moment ago. Ianto gripped Jack's shoulders hard, screwing his face up and working to relax his lower muscles while gasping, trying to decide whether it was pleasurable or painful. Jack distracted him with a kiss, flinching when Ianto instinctively bit down when Jack hit his prostate and caught his lip with his teeth.

Jack let out a sharp breath when he felt his hips finally touching Ianto's skin. He was careful about putting his weight on Ianto's torso, but Ianto kept trying to pull him down. In the end he gave in and let their bodies touch from shoulder to thigh, and Ianto wrapped his arms and legs around Jack and clenched and squeezed down as hard as he could. Jack grunted and buried his head in Ianto's neck, licking sweat from the skin and hiding the ecstasy of his expression in Ianto's hair.

Lifting his head, they kissed, and Jack began to slowly withdraw himself from Ianto's body. He pulled practically all the way out before just as gently pushing back in. He kept going, building up his rhythm and keeping his eyes on Ianto's, searching for any sign of discomfort. Reaching down between them, Jack found Ianto still hard and crying out for attention.

Ianto batted his hand away and pulled him down to lie flush on top of him again, trapping his cock between them and taking any friction from the movement of Jack's stomach. His legs were still wrapped around Jack's middle and aching a little from holding them up. He reached for his feet and clung onto his heels to hold his legs up as Jack's pace began to pick up, their tongues in each other's mouths again.

Ianto arched and gasped as Jack moved faster, his movement becoming less calculated and more frantic. He was getting harder and faster and rougher and it was starting to hurt.

"Jack ... Jack ... no ... too much ..."

Gasping for breath, Jack slowed to a rock. He carefully watched Ianto. "Shall we ... shall we stop?" he panted.

Ianto shook his head. "Just let me get used to it before you forget there's a person attached to that hole you're fucking."

"I ... I didn't ... didn't forget. I just ... ah ... sorry ..."

Ianto squeezed down on him hard and watched Jack's eyes scrunch closed. "Get moving."

Jack made an amused sound. "Topping from the bottom?"

Ianto squeezed again to make his point.

"Ianto!" Jack groaned, and kissed him as he began moving again, fluid and at a moderate pace.

Ianto whispered in his ear, "That's perfect, Jack ... that's good."

Their brains couldn't find words after that, opting instead to simply take back seats to the body and the sensations coursing through. Ianto came, making their bodies slick as they slid together, and Jack watched his face as he had said he would. A moment later he followed, and Ianto felt the extra heat inside him and the expansion of the condom.

A minute or so later, Jack flushed away the condom, hid away the lubricant and crawled under the covers to lie with Ianto.

"You're different in bed," Jack told him.

Ianto cracked an eye open. "Am I?"

"I bet you'd make an adorable top. Very bossy."

A yawn stifled Ianto's laugh. "You've exhausted me, but it seems all you and I do together is nap."

"Sleeping with someone is a very intimate thing. You're completely defenceless, putting total trust in that other person not to hurt you while you're unconscious. In this place, what does that say about us?"

"We're too lazy to do anything else?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

Ianto closed his eyes again, and Jack pulled himself closer.

"So ... aside from me going a bit too rough ... how ... y'know ... did you like it?"

"Of course I liked it!" Ianto said as if it was obvious, opening one eye to give him an 'are you blind?' look.

Jack grinned. "Good." He turned onto his back, and Ianto rolled onto his side so that he could cuddle up and get comfortable. "You sleep," Jack instructed. "I'll wake you before they bring us food so that we can put the beds back."

"Mmm. Okay," nodded Ianto.

Jack squeezed him tight, and listened as Ianto's breathing evened out. Sure he was unconscious, Jack wriggled a little until he had Ianto on his back and he could lie on his side, head propped up on a hand.

For the second time that day, he took the opportunity to think about things, while watching a smiling Ianto Jones sleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

He couldn't quite remember if he'd ever been this drunk before. Even University hadn't seen him _this_ drunk ... surely?

Dinner had been taken up to them by a disgruntled Owen on Holroyd's orders. Ianto had pulled the door open and revealed their perfectly organised cell and smiled politely. Jack was lying casually on Ianto's bed. Owen rolled his eyes at them.

"At least tell me you used a plastic bag," he sighed, rubbing his temples.

Jack's carefully blank expression broke into a wide grin. "Why would we use protection?" he asked. "We're trying for a baby!"

Owen sighed again. "I wouldn't put it past you, Harkness." He turned to Ianto. "I'm having a proper word with _you_ later," he assured him, and Ianto gulped.

Turning on his heel, Owen left, a wide-eyed Officer Williams lingering behind the door and carefully not looking at them as he closed and locked it again.

After eating, they dragged the mattresses back onto the floor and sat on them as they cracked open the hooch Owen had left.

Which is how Ianto had got drunk.

Very, very drunk.

"Whys so strung?" he asked Jack.

"S'easier to get drunk and to smuggle it 'n' stuff if s'more concentrated," Jack replied, his eyes darting around as if trying to work out where Ianto was. He found him with paw-like movements with his hand, and pulled him bodily onto his lap. Ianto giggled, and Jack started animatedly rocking him.

"You gunna make me sick," Ianto complained.

Jack ignored him, starting up a rather crude rendition of 'Rock-a-Bye Baby' that made Ianto giggle harder. He was so busy being entertained by Jack's song, and Jack's rocking, and Jack's killer smile, that he hadn't noticed Jack's hand sneaking into his boiler suit and below his waistband until a rather emphatic 'come' and Jack's hand squeezing his cock.

Ianto groaned, then grunted as Jack pretty much dropped him for the big finish to his song. He grunted again when Jack's entire weight landed on top of him, and he raised his head with a pout and a frown to find Jack's chin resting on his chest and a cheeky grin to greet him. Ianto stuck out his tongue lazily.

"I want you to start coming to the gym wi' me," Jack mumbled into his chest.

"You jus' wanna perv on me hot'n'sweaty, gruntin' 'n' groanin'."

"Gym is where all the big boys hang out. Now that you won two fights, you're a big boy."

"I didn't win," Ianto murmured, his hand clumsily landing in Jack's hair. "I ran away."

"You outsmarted 'em, kid. That's 'won' enough."

"My body's numb," Ianto frowned. "You're on me. Gerroff. I don' wan' pins'n'needles."

"I can think of something much nicer to stick in you than pins or needles," Jack replied automatically, but shifted until he could flop onto his back. "You gonna come to the gym?" he asked.

Ianto groaned. "I hate excersise."

"You'd look hot and dangerous with muscly muscles."

"Am lookin' hot and dangerous as I am! Am jailbait!"

Jack laughed loudly, then cut himself off. "How old are you again?"

"Twenty-two."

"Ahhhh, that's okay then."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Really?"

"Yahuh."

"I ... thought were ... you seem a bit older."

"Do I?" asked Jack, as innocently as he could.

Ianto's features scrunched up into a frown. "Yeah, you do."

Jack laughed and fidgeted, turning so that he could throw his limbs over Ianto until he was kneeling over him and clutching his wrists, pinning them above Ianto's head. "Never tell a vain man he's older than he says he is," he growled huskily.

Ianto gave him a shite-eating grin. "How old are you?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm ... not telling," Jack replied, burying his head in Ianto's neck.

"How old are you?" Ianto repeated, tilsitng his head to the side so that Jack could access his neck better.

"I'm thffmffnff," said Jack, the last words muffled into Ianto's neck.

"Didn't quite catch that ..."

"Thffmffnff," he repeated.

"Thuff miff nuff?"

Jack raised his head. "It's Klingon," he explained, before dropping his mouth back to Ianto's neck on the other side.

Ianto knew for a fact it was not. "Fine. Shall I tell you how old I think you are?"

Jack raised his head again, looking bemused to hide his vain wariness. "Go on," he prompted.

Biting his lip, Ianto drunkenly considered his answer. "Thirty-two," he settled on.

Jack barked out a delighted laugh, flopping down and lying beside Ianto.

"You're older?" asked Ianto.

Chuckling, Jack sat up and reached for the half-full bottle of hooch and took a gulp. "A little."

"Thirty ... fffffour?" Ianto suggested, sitting and taking the bottle and a gulp for himself, swaying a little as his head got used to being moved so drastically.

Jack chuckled at that, too. "Nope."

"Older?" frowned Ianto.

Jack was grinning from ear to ear, drawing one knee up and pulling Ianto to sit between his legs, back to his chest. "A bit older, yeah." He raised the hooch to Ianto's lips and tipped it so that he could sip a little more.

"You are _literally_ getting me drunk," Ianto smirked, clumsily running his finger tip down Jack's jawline.

"Any moment now," Jack muttered, his voice low and seductive, his tongue flicking out to Ianto's earlobe. "I might have my wicked way with you."

"... if you can _getitup_," Ianto reminded him.

"I'm not _that_ old."

"No ... but you're _that_ drunk."

"Am not! My blood is ... y'know ... 'n' stuff!"

Ianto giggled drunkenly. "My head is funny. This won't give us ... like ... alcoholpoisoning will it?"

"Aahmmmmm," Jack replied thoughtfully. "I think we should ... mebbee ease up a bit?"

"We should use a condom ... use a condom ..."

"That would be advisable," agreed Jack.

"No! No!" Ianto shook his head, and he reached for the bottle in Jack's hand. "We should roll a condom down it to seal it off ... and ... and ... and give it back to Owen!"

"... part of me thinks I should come in the condom first ..."

"I can guess which part," Ianto smirked, turning so that he was kneeling facing Jack. He sloppily tried to kiss him, neither of them managing even a fraction of finesse. They parted, and Ianto sat cross-legged, holding onto his ankles like an off-balance four-year-old.

Jack got himself up on his hands and knees, a little precariously, and he shuffled forward with a wolfish grin. His lips parted slightly as he leaned forward to kiss Ianto's mouth, and somewhere between deciding to do it and moving in, he dropped unconscious.

Ianto blinked, processing what had just happened. Jack let out a loud, rasping snore where he'd collapsed in a large lump of tanned flesh and awful uniform. With very little care, Ianto shoved his body off him and scowled at him as he rolled away.

_Older than thirty-five, then,_ he decided.

~*~*~*~

"Morning."

"Owww," groaned Jack, his voice croaking out. "Don't shout!"

"I'm not shouting."

Jack groaned again, throwing his arm over his eyes. "What the fuck happened to me?"

"Owen's hooch," Ianto reminded him. "C'mon - you need to help me get the mattresses back before they bring in breakfast."

"Why are you so happy?" Jack whimpered, a drumming band taking up residence in his temples, his stomach feeling like a bubbling swamp and his mouth ... ugh ... his _mouth_... "Where's your hangover?" he demanded.

"I don't get hangovers. Not yet, anyway. My sister says they'll probably hit when I turn thirty-one."

"Why?" Jack wailed, as if it was a general question to everything rather than Ianto's non-hangover status.

Ianto shrugged. "Some people just don't get 'em until they're middle-aged."

Jack's eyes flew open. "Thirty," he glowered. "Is _not_ middle-ag - owwwww my _head_!"

"C'mon, Captain. Mattresses."

It took five minutes for Jack to stand, let alone stoop to lift mattresses again. "You're tryna kill me," he concluded, the first mattress safely on Ianto's bunk.

"It's the top bunk next," Ianto replied, a little too gleefully.

"Sadistic wanker," muttered Jack, massaging his temples. Ianto laughed, but otherwise ignored the comment, already getting prepared to lift the mattress onto the uppermost part of the metal framework.

With a bit of a struggle, they managed it, and Jack collapsed onto Ianto's bed face-down and groaned. "There's a Carnivale in my fucking head," he complained. "A Brazilian one, with lots of stamping and shouting and drums ..."

Ianto ran a glass of tap water, and set it on the floor by the bed. With a lot of grunting and groaning in pain, he managed to get Jack lying on his back, half sat up and propped in between Ianto's legs. Ianto held the glass to his lips, encouraging him to sip a little. Setting the glass down, he gently began to massage Jack's head and temples, feeling the tension in his body begin to slip away as Jack's eyes drifted shut.

"Mmm," he hummed contentedly.

"You passed out," smirked Ianto. "It would have been funny, if you hadn't passed out_on_ me."

"On you?" frowned Jack. "In the middle of ... ?"

"Ha! No. I'd have several more complaints if you'd have passed out in the middle of ... "

Jack smiled. "I know what you mean. I've been there before now."

"Poor Jack," Ianto cooed, kissing his hair.

Jack's bottom lip poked out. He lay still and relaxed for a few more minutes, before tensing a little. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"The toilet's in the corner!" Ianto pointed sharply, preparing to drag Jack toward it. Jack made it in time, then collapsed back as he let it flush.

"Ugh. Sorry. That hooch was _strong_," he groaned, rubbing his head.

Ianto already had his toothbrush and toothpaste ready, and a pillow to sandwich between Jack's head and the wall it was currently resting on. He crouched beside him with the glass of water he'd made earlier, and the empty glass so that Jack could spit into it without having to get up.

Jack gave the glass a doubtful look when he realised its purpose, and Ianto rolled his eyes. "I worked as a legal secretary. Believe me - I've seen worse things than a bit of spit-back toothpaste."

Shrugging, Jack spat it out and Ianto took the toothbrush back and washed it and the tumbler under the running tap. Jack sipped at the glass of water. "I feel a bit better now."

"Well enough to face breakfast?"

Jack shook his head slowly. "No way. I'll get breakfast, but there's no chance in Hell I'm gonna eat it."

"Then why get it?"

"Won't you think it's a bit suspicious if half the wing is skipping breakfast with an illness consisting of the exact same symptoms of hangover?"

"Fair point. I'll have to eat yours when they bring it up."

Jack made a delighted sound. "Of course ... lock-in ... don't have to face the world."

"Fingers crossed Owen has to bring our food up again."

"Yeah ... I can tell him in detail what I'm gonna do to him once I get my faculties back."

Ianto laughed. "I'll take notes. I know shorthand."

Jack smiled sleepily, his head tipping back a little. "That's my boy," he chuckled.

~*~*~*~

Ianto sat where his pillows had been, with them sandwiched between his back and the wall to make it more comfortable. Jack was lying on his front between Ianto's legs, arms around his middle and head on his chest, eyes closed and one ear listening to his heartbeat, the other listening to Ianto reading _Dorian Gray_. It was getting near the end of their twenty-four hour lock-in, and he was finally starting to feel more like himself.

He sprang back from Ianto when a key slid and scraped in the lock, and Officer Holroyd appeared in their cell. "Cell inspection," she snapped brusquely, and Officer Guppy entered behind her, forcefully ripping a black plastic bag from the roll in her hand.

Jack and Ianto stood up, moving to stand by the railing outside the cell so that they couldn't interfere with the inspection. Ianto's stomach was a tight knot, and Jack leaned casually on the metal beside him with his arms folded tightly across his chest, his expression nonchalant. Guppy and Holroyd bustled around, ripping up bedding and rooting through the cupboard above the sink.

Further down the row, John and Owen were leaning on the railing, too. They caught Owen's eye, and he and John began to move toward them. Owen's expression read 'they know about the hooch'.

"How's things?" Jack asked.

"Variable; could have been worse," Owen replied. _Would have preferred this not to be happening; they haven't found anything linking to me yet._

John was leaning far too casually on the railing, bruises blossoming beneath his collar. "Been up to much?" _Did you fuck him?_

Jack ignored him. _I fucked his brains out_.

"How about you, Eye-Candy?" _Was it any good?_

Ianto found himself copying Jack and remaining silent. _I could barely walk afterwards_.

Owen cleared his throat. "D'you all wanna go play a bit of basketball later, maybe?" _Oh God, please don't kill each other ..._

John nodded. "Yeah, okay." _... if it means I can 'accidentally' injure Eye-Candy ..._.

Jack shrugged. "Sure, why not?" _... if it means I can 'accidentally' kill John ..._

Ianto shuffled a little. "I don't really know the rules, so ..." _OH MY GOD JOHN KNOWS AND HE WANTS TO KILL ME!_

"That's okay," John smiled. "You can ref." _... so that I have another reason to hate you._

"He doesn't know the rules," cut in Jack. _Not on my watch, John_.

"Just a suggestion ..." pouted John. _You can't keep your eye glued to him forever ..._

"Jones! Harkness!" barked a voice from within their cell.

They shrugged away from John and Owen, entering their cell and finding it in disarray. Holroyd and Guppy were stood in the middle, looking non-too-pleased. "Where is it?" snapped Holroyd.

"Where's what?" scowled Jack, keeping a step in front of Ianto and making himself as big and as menacing as possible.

"We know that someone on this half of the wing has been brewing alcohol. Now _where_is it?"

"You think it was _us?_"

Holroyd's lip curled. "No. I think it was you and Mister Hart. Only he moved and you didn't. Now where is it?"

Jack laughed, attempting to dazzle them with a grin. "You've got it wrong. I don't even know how to brew that shit. And yeah, yeah - you think it was me and John? I bet you've said 'I think it was you' to everyone who's cell you've torn apart."

Her nostrils flared and her lips pressed together into a tight, thin line. "I think we're done here," she snapped, and shoved her way out of the cell. "Your lock-in is complete and ... you passed inspection," she spat, as if the idea of either (but probably both) disgusted her.

"Where'd you hide it?" Jack asked, a few hours later. Ianto grinned cheekily, got up from the bunk and crossed to the medicine cabinet. Putting one hand on top of it and one hand below, he lifted it off the wall from the screws upon which it hung. Concealed behind it was a small alcove, and nestled in the hole in the brickwork was the half-full bottle of hooch.

"Oh," Jack breathed. "When did that get there?"

"The brickwork is old and soft. I used one of the spoons and a knife from dinner to scratch it away while you felt sorry for yourself."

"That," Jack pointed. "is genius. Don't tell anyone."

Ianto put the medicine cabinet back carefully, pouting. "I can't share my genius?"

"Your genius is for my eyes only," Jack replied. "Now come here: I need to kiss you."

~*~*~*~

June tenth.

The day John was leaving.

They were letting him out at one 'o' clock, and Jack had been silent since he'd woken up. He'd slept in his own bunk, had barely touched Ianto (not that they'd actually had sex after their first time, which had Ianto a little paranoid) for a hug or a kiss, and had simply curled up with _Dorian Gray_ to ignore him.

Fed up, Ianto announced he was off to Owen's. Of course, when he got there, there was no Owen ... but one whole John.

"You need to say goodbye to Jack," Ianto said before John could get a word in.

"You think he's gonna talk to me?" John snapped back.

"No, but he'll listen."

"Unlike some, I detest one-sided conversations."

Ianto didn't reply.

"So ... he finally shagged you, then?"

Ianto sighed, folding his arms and rolling his eyes.

"Was he any good? - Ha! Stupid question."

"Last day in here and you're hidden away on your own," Ianto finally said, a little unkindly.

John smirked. "Wanna keep me company?" he offered, and he moved closer. "Fancy showing me a few of the new tricks you learned?"

"... like how to block punches and to throw my own with my weight?"

John sighed and crossed to the sink, resting his hands on it and leaning heavily on the basin. "I'm sure I apologised for that whole ... thing."

"Did you? I don't recall."

"How's the bruising?"

"Fading. Doesn't even hurt."

John laughed. "Big man," he replied, sarcastic. "You got lucky. You know you did."

Ianto folded his arms across his chest definsively and leaned back on the wall. "I got lucky when it mattered."

"You can't always depend on luck, Eye-Candy. Sometime soon you're gonna have to use your brain."

Ianto nodded, and John turned from the sink, resting his back against the wall and folding his arms, mirroring Ianto's position. There was a moment of silence before Ianto broke it. "What will you do when you get outside?"

John shrugged. "No idea. I dunno if there'll even be anyone waiting for me. My wife ... well ..." He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "... long gone. No parents, no siblings. My friends? Ha. Screw them."

Ianto stared at his feet a second. "Jack ... Jack told me that ... that you were in here because you took the flack for your wife."

Stiffening, John's nostrils flared. "Did he now?"

"I ... erm ... I can ... y'know ... I can 'relate' to that."

John's eyes snapped to his, and understanding dawned.

Ianto returned to staring at his shoes. "Don't tell Jack."

"Just hope they're worth it," John sighed. "Do they know about Jack?"

"I ..." Ianto chose his wording carefully. "I haven't seen her since. I think ..." He imitated John's sweeping gesture. "... long gone. I wrote to her when I got in, but ... no reply. And no visit."

"I'm guessing Jack's given you his 'Why Women Are Tempting But So Very Evil' speech?" John asked lightly.

"Erm ... I never told him."

John's eyebrows shot up.

"He never asked," Ianto explained.

"It's not a lie if you don't say anything," shrugged John. "Besides, if she's long gone ... what's for him to ask about?"

"You won't tell him?"

"Would I have time - What do you want?"

Ianto frowned, then turned to the doorway beside him to find Ugly Jack about to rap on the doorframe. He smirked at Ianto. "Perfect timing," he said, then turned back to John, jerking his head in Ianto's direction. "I came to have a word about the runt."

One eyebrow quirked in vague interest. "Oh?"

Ianto felt his eyes widening and all of his instincts tried to force himself to be as small as possible. Ugly Jack pushed the door to within an inch closed. "We both owe him something, don't we, John?" he reminded with an oily grin.

John looked amused. "I guess we do."

He pushed off from the wall to saunter closer, and Ianto felt himself backed into the corner, his mind choosing now to go wonderfully blank of any ideas. The door seemed suddenly and impossibly quite far away, and the cold bricks of the other cell wall touched his back. "Jack won't be pleased," he tried, and Ugly Jack simply laughed, John taking up his position at his side, smirking.

"C'mon, guys," Ianto tried again. "I was just defending myself. If you hadn't have started on me, we wouldn't be here now, would we?"

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say, as Ugly Jack drew back his fist and got Ianto right in the stomach. Winded, he was bent double, his head pulled up so that Ugly Jack could punch his face. His aim was a little off, the impact doing little but colliding with the left side of his head rather than face ... and then the grip on his hair loosened and Ianto opened his eyes to find empty air where Ugly Jack had been.

There was a muffled grunt and a yell of pain, John wrestling the huge wardrobe of a man onto the floor and raining punches where he could reach. Ianto felt a little dizzy, and putting it down to relief he dived for the door.

"OI!" He heard John yell. "IANTO!"

Ianto burst into his cell, and found Jack as he'd left him. "Jack!" he panted. "You need to ... you need to ... the other Jack ... he attacked me, and ..."

"Not another head off a sink ... ?" Jack asked, sounding amused and tucking his book under his pillow.

"No! John pulled him off ... but ... I can't help, can I?"

"Where?" asked Jack, turning serious.

"Owen's cell."

Jack strode out of the cell and down the row, threw open the door to Owen's cell and stepped inside. Ianto loitered in the doorway, his eyes wide as he watched in morbid fascination: Ugly Jack curled on the floor, John and Handsome Jack stood over him, raining down kicks mercilessly, cheering each other on.

After three minutes or so, they tired, Ugly Jack most likely black and blue all over, already bruises forming on the flesh visible.

John checked his watch, ignoring the whimpering man on the floor and the shocked one in the doorway. "I need to go," he said. "Thanks for the ..." He indicated toward their victim.

"I didn't do it for you," Jack snapped, before crouching by Ugly Jack's head. He gripped his chin in a vice-like hold, forcing him to look up at him from puffed up and bruising eyes. "You do not touch him again," he warned quietly. "What did I say?"

"I ... I won't touch him again. I don't touch him again," whispered Ugly Jack.

"What happens if you do?"

Ugly Jack swallowed, and simply nodded, no other answer apparently required.

"That's right," Jack agreed, as if absconding a child. He tapped Ugly Jack's cheek. "Up you get. The good doctor may be a little pissed off if he finds you pretending to be his new rug."

Staggering to his feet, Ugly Jack somehow managed to haul himself, part shuffling, part limping, from the cell. Ianto kept his eyes downcast and moved out of his way, raising his eyes to give John a questioning glance. In reply, John's eyes darted to Jack, now making his way out of the room.

"Why did you help me?" Ianto asked out loud, once Jack was out of earshot.

John's arms folded and his chin raised. "I figured we were the same - and self-harm isn't my style. And if I had helped Ugly Jack beat the shit out of you? It might have felt immensely satisfying for the short-term, but ... well, Jack would never talk to me agan."

"_IANTO!_" Jack's voice bollowed, and John flinched.

"Good luck, Eye-Candy ... And start using your fucking head."

"See ya, John."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Bye."

Ianto decided that was all the 'goodbye' they were most likely to exchange, and just as Jack was drawing breath to yell for him again, appeared in the doorway to their cell. "I need a glass of water," he mumbled, his head still spinning.

"Me too," Jack grunted, folding his arms and watching as Ianto ran the tap and filled their two tumblers. "You're nervous," he observed, taking his glass from Ianto.

"After what I just saw, can you blame me? I need to sit down."

Jack sat next to him on his bed, gulping down his water. "You think anything less would have kept him off your back?"

"You didn't have to enjoy it so much."

Ianto just about heard Jack's sharp, surprised intake of breath. Jack couldn't think of a reply, instead rolling his empty tumbler between his hands back and forth. "What did he do to you?" he eventually asked.

"Punch to my stomach and a punch to my head," Ianto replied quietly. He cleared his throat. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but ... you ... I do appreciate that you ... I didn't quite expect ... y'know."

"Brutality," Jack said flatly.

"I expected that," admitted Ianto. "You just made it look so much like _fun_."

He turned to look at Jack, and he could sense that behind Jack's eyes, part of him was saying 'It is'. "It was necessary," were the words that came out his mouth. "And now you'll be left alone for a while."

"Thank you."

Ianto blinked forcefully and rubbed his eye. "I'm tired. I think I might have a nap."

"I want Owen to look at you first."

"He hit me twice. I'm fine," Ianto grumbled, but Jack was already taking his glass from him and putting both his own and Ianto's in their sink.

Fifteen minutes later, Owen had been dragged from an animated conversation with Officer Cooper and up to Jack and Ianto's cell. He looked quite bored as he examined Ianto's torso, checked his heart rate and made him follow his finger with his eyes. It wasn't until Owen hesitated a fraction that Ianto felt anything other than complete disinterest.

"Has anyone got a penlight or anything?" Owen asked, using the thumbs of his hands to open Ianto's right eye a little more. Jack's head snapped up, but unquestioningly exited the cell to find someone who had one. "Which side did he hit your head?" continued Owen. "Where abouts was the impact?"

Ianto pointed to the left side of his head, where Ugly Jack's right fist had collided with it. "About there."

"Okay ..." Owen muttered, gently probing the spot with his fingers. "... and vision?"

Ianto shrugged. "Fine."

"What if I cover your left eye? Is your left eye compensating?"

"Compensating for wha- ? ... oh. It's ... there's a bit of ..."

"Mmm," hummed Owen. "A bit duller? A bit darker?"

"Both ... but ... what? I can't be sure. And ... he hit the other side of my head!"

"All I can think is that the optic nerves cross inside your head," explained Owen. "Look at a point on the opposite wall," he instructed, moving out of the way and keeping the left eye covered. "Any bluriness?"

"Not really ... just ... dull. Like wearing sunglasses. And there's spots."

"Coloured spots?"

"No."

"White spots? Like after you've stared at a bright light?"

"No - like ... tiny black spots."

"Any particular area of vision?

"It's like ... they're moving. I can't keep track of them."

"Any dizziness? Disorientation?"

"Erm ... a little. But that was just adrenalin, really."

"Mmm." Owen didn't sound overly sure.

Jack returned with Officer Cooper behind him, her car keys in her hand, and one of the keyrings was a small LED torch. Owen didn't question her presence, simply taking the key fob and testing it. "May be a little bright, but better than nothing."

He crouched in front of Ianto, and Jack crouched beside Owen.

"Look at your point on the opposite wall again," Owen instructed in his Doctor Voice. "Concentrate on that and ignore the ... ah. See that?" he asked Jack, moving a little so that Jack could see. "Slow reaction, and not nearly enough contraction and relaxation." He moved the light a little, and Jack nodded as he saw what Owen had described.

He bit his thumb in concern. "What's doing it?"

"From what he's told me, sounds like bruising or nerve damage."

"What do we do?"

"If you'd brought him to my surgery, this would be the point I'd refer you to a specialist at your local NHS hospital."

"Can't you do anything?"

"I'm a General Practitioner. He needs a specialist."

Jack lowered his voice. "If he's hospitalised, we'll have to report the incident!"

"I know."

"I've been trapped in this Hell hole long enough without another six months for GBH!"

"If we leave it, another knock on the head could make him lose vision in his right eye entirely, if it doens't simply fade away itself," Owen snapped. "I'm not an ophthalmologist. I'm not a neurologist. I could do fuck all even if I wasn't trapped in here with you."

Jack sat back on his haunches and rubbed his face. He glanced up at Officer Cooper. "He walked into a door?" he offered, and she rolled her eyes. "We were playfighting?" he tried. "Would that work?"

"You'd have to have been playfighting pretty fuckin' hard," Owen muttered.

Ianto cleared his throat. "How about the bunk bed fell over?"

They all turned to him.

"I was changing the bedding, tugged the flat sheet too hard, the whole thing toppled and landed on me?"

Gwen thought about it for a second. "I want chocolate whenever you have it," she bargained.

Ianto shrugged. "Sure."

"... and nobody _ever_ mentions I had a part in this?"

Jack grinned at her. "You didn't get here until the bunk beds crashed."

She nodded. "Right."

Carefully, they worked together to set it up.

~*~*~*~

Pushing over the bunkbeds had had a pretty dramatic effect, but had damaged them beyond repair. Holroyd had gleefully had what was left of the metal frame removed, leaving the two mattresses on the floor. Ianto had been taken to the prison doctor, Doctor Milligan, who had asked the exact same questions, done the exact same tests and come to the same conclusion.

He was taken to hospital without even being allowed to say goodbye to Jack, let alone John.

In the end, Jack had managed to put aside John's behaviour over the past two months for about two minutes and tried to part as at least amiably. He'd joined in the cheering as John had been led out of the wing, and had stood on his tiptoes to watch the top of the gates swinging open and closed again as John Hart was set loose on the world once more.

Had he had his top bunk, he'd have been able to see the exit clearly, but he had to make do.

The rest of the day he spent drifting around, before eventually attaching himself to Alex. He complained about Ianto getting to spend his day surrounded by nurses in uniform, then about his bunk bed, then about John picking today to leave, and then on to Ugly Jack and his intimidation tactics. Alex, usually the image of patience, snapped by dinner.

"Are you punishing me for something?" he asked grudgingly, his annoyance bringing his accent out thick.

Jack blinked. "No?"

"Then. Stop. Talking," he ordered through gritted teeth.

Jack dropped his eyes to his cold pizza. "Sorry, Alex."

"It's okay, son. But seriously, shut up. The way you go on about the Little Fish people'd think you were in love with him!" he joked, laughing to himself.

Owen choked on his water, causing a welcome distraction for most of the table from Jack's wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression.

Alex laughed at him. "It was a joke, Jack. Shut yer mouth, there might be a bus coming."

Jack snapped his mouth shut. "You shouldn't say things like that," he murmured.

Sighing, Alex set down the glass he had been holding part way to his lips. "It was just a joke."

"You never know who's listening."

Alex ignored him, and started talking about some of his ideas for hopefully making Torchwood members getting along with themselves before they could try getting along with Saxons. Jack was pretty much instantly bored, and simply left his tray on the table and climbed the stairs back to his cell. He was aware Owen had followed him, but didn't acknowledge him until he was safely behind his own door.

"What?" he snapped.

"He'll be fine, Jack," Owen assured him without having to ask any questions of his own. Jack didn't reply, sinking down onto one of the two mattresses now lined up head to tail along the wall. Owen sighed and sat next to him, back leaning on the wall.

"What's the worst that might happen?" Jack asked quietly.

"Absolute worst? Total loss of vision in his right eye, maybe chronic headaches."

"And best?"

"Everything is fixed and goes back to normal. Maybe chronic headaches."

"And most likely?"

Owen drew in a deep breath. "Chances are, he'll need glasses with only one prescription lens or something, if the damage doesn't look like it's going to get worse. Everything in the head is very delicate. A knock to it can make you lose your vision, your hearing, your sense of smell, your sense of taste. Everything's balanced, throw it off just a little and there are consequences we can't always fix."

"I've given and taken kicks to the head and come out fine."

Owen shrugged. "Just the right angle, just the right concentrated pressure, just the right time, just the right amount of force. You can be perfectly healthy, then one day stand up, whack your head and spend the rest of your life deaf."

He frowned when he realised Jack was giggling. He caught his eye and raised an eyebrow.

"What if they give him an eye-patch?" Jack sniggered, and Owen felt the corners of his mouth pull. "I like eye-patches," nodded Jack.

"At least he'll already have a costume for the Christmas Fancy Dress."

"Eye-patches are sexy," Jack told him authoratitively, drew breath to say something else, then paused whena voice called from the walkway: "_Alex's Cell!_"

He sighed. "I ain't going."

"He'll send someone to look for you."

"Then I'll tell _them_ I'm not going, and they can be the shot messenger."

"He'll probably want to talk about the fight - and what happened to Ianto."

"Let him talk about what happened to Ianto," Jack muttered bitterly. "I already know."

"Don't you want to stand next to him, glaring at them all threateningly until they weep? I know how much you love to do that."

"I'd rather tell them I'm too angry to look at them and let them stew."

The voice shouted down the walkway again. "_Harkness! Alex's cell!_"

Pointedly, Jack got up and slammed his door, listening in satisfaction as the sound of it echoed around the cavernous space. "Ominous enough?" he asked Owen.

"It was all right. Pity you can't do it again for luck."

Jack pouted and went to sit back down, just as his cell door burst open again. Had it been a regular door, it probably would have fallen from its hinges. Alex stromed into the cell.

"I have had it up to _here_ with you!" he growled. "You're supposed to be my second! What the _fuck_, Jack? Show some fucking solidarity, yeah?"

Owen raised his hand to speak. "He's a bit miffed about John going," he reminded Alex.

"He's the only one who is," snapped Alex, and Jack shot him a daggered look.

"If you don't have anythiing nice to say, don't say anything at all," Jack snapped back. "Go away and have your little conference about getting along and being friends. I've heard it enough times."

"And it never sinks in, does it?" Alex retorted.

"I'd be perfectly amiable if people stopped trying to kill my cell mate."

Alex massaged the bridge of his nose. "He's lucky, y'know. Jones. If Jack hadn't have got to 'im and had him in hospital, Unit and Adam had something brewed up especially."

"Like what?" Jack asked, his tone taking an edge. "Hou know do you know?"

Alex gave him a hard look. "Doesn't matter for now. The point is that _we_ stick together, and teach them not to mess with ours. What was it Abraham Lincoln said?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Owen frowned. "'_I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends_'?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "No."

_"'A woman is the only thing I am afraid of that I know will not hurt me'_?" he suggested.

"_No_."

Jack squinted as he thought. "_'A house divided within itself cannot stand'_?"

"That's the one," nodded Alex.

Jack leaned into Owen and whispered, "I learned that from _Night at the Museum 2_."

Alex cleared his throat to get their attention back. "We need to show that lot that we're not divided."

"Oh," groaned Jack. "What did you have in mind?" he dared to ask.

"You and the other Jack need to work together, and bring down Unit."

Jack's lip twitched, but he knew Alex would ignore it.

"How far down?" he finally asked.

Alex told Owen to leave.

**_This fic has been nominated for a Children of Time Award! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Thank you! xxx Silver xxx_**


	8. Chapter 8

_"Oi! Harper!"_

"What?"

_"Phone call!"_

Owen grumbled as he pushed his chair back. "I'll be right back - and _don't_ look at my cards," Owen warned, leaving Jack and their Very Serious game of Snap. It may seem comical that the two of them played the game quite often, but nothing was more innocent in appearance for honing reflexes than a challenging game of Snap.

For a moment or so, Jack sat on his own in Owen's cell, before becoming restless and heading back to his own. The new bed frame hadn't arrived yet, and his and Ianto's mattresses were still on the bare floor. Ianto's was untouched and perfectly made, tucked into the corner farthest from the door. He hadn't been there to sleep in it yet.

Jack opened his little grey tin, the one he kept on his shelf, and lifted the photographs inside to reveal a collection of size 'C' batteries. He opened the back of his CD player and took out his condoms and lube, temporarily hiding them under his pillow. Inserting the batteries, he switched it on, picked out his Glenn Miller CD and lay on the bed to let the by-gone melodies wash over him as he began to wonder when Ianto might be getting back. They'd examined him and kept him in for observation, but for how long and what the situation was Jack hadn't been told. Just locked in his cell and left to stew.

Jack let the CD play 'round once, then restless again got to his feet, transferred batteries to tin and sex aids to battery compartment, and headed back to Owen's cell. It was still empty, and Jack refrained from kicking the door too hard in frustration. He was quite surprised to find himself at a loss at what to do. He couldn't go and talk to Alex, because all Alex would want to talk about was 'divided houses' and Ugly, Ugly Jack. Owen was off wherever, Ianto was in hospital, John was most likely pissed and getting himself laid in Vegas ... he supposed he could go and talk to Archie. Archie always had stories to tell.

... or maybe he could go and bait some Saxons. Maybe one of the smaller ones who didn't properly fear him yet. And then he could just slink back to his cell. It was nearly time to be locked in for the night anyway.

He was just sitting up, picturing one of the well-dressed little thorough-breds in his head, when he heard the sounds of shouting and cajoling from the cafeteria below. Curious, he went out onto the walkway and glared down at the inmates below him. They were all watching the far side of the room, leading to the rest of the prison, as Officer Williams opened the gates to let in ... Ianto.

Jack gripped the railing to stop himself running down to him - or worse: waving. He settled on a casual stance, still holding the metal bar, and simply watched as Ianto kept his head down and made his way quickly up the stairs, dodging past the people coming the other way with graceful ease. As he approached, Jack turned to lean and fold his arms nonchalantly.

"Heya, Jack," Ianto murmured quietly, keeping his head down.

Jack shrugged, and turned to lead the way back into the cell. He sat down on his mattress and patted the space beside him. "So? No glasses, I see."

Ianto hugged his knees. "It's getting worse. They say there's nothing they can do but leave it. If it stops deteriorating, then they'll give me glasses."

"'If'?" Jack repeated. "They don't think ...?"

He let the question hang in the air, and Ianto shook his head. "They think I'll eventually lose my sight in my right eye, since there's no way from them to treat ... whatever that bastard did. Not only that, but my eye might go cloudy. _Everyone_ will know."

"Cloudy?"

"Like ... a milky eye."

"Oo, sexy," Jack grinned.

"You don't think that," Ianto muttered, hugging his knees tighter.

"I do," Jack insisted. "Owen and I were talking about it. Sort of. We were on eye-patches."

"Arr," Ianto laughed softly, doing his best pirate impression.

Jack gently stroked his fingers through Ianto's hair. "See?"

He could feel how rigid Ianto was beneath his fingers, his eyes squeezed shut tight and Jack knew he was probably trying not to cry. "Hey," he said, voice low and comforting. "We've still got hooch. Let's get shitfaced tonight and fuck the world."

"I'd rather not," Ianto murmured.

"Well ... erm ... we could play cards? I have Owen's deck."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Shall we read?" Jack tried. "Let's read."

"Not now," Ianto grumbled irritably. He tugged back the sheet covering his bed and climbed under, lying on his side and facing the wall.

Jack scratched his head. After a moment, he moved and lay himself behind Ianto, spooning into his back. "They'll lock us in soon," he whispered. "I can make you feel better properly."

Ianto 'mmm'd' into his pillow, folding his arms and curling a little. Jack realised that he probably might want a little bit of space, so pressed a kiss to Ianto's pale temple and got to his feet. "I'm gonna go to Owen's cell 'til lock in, okay? If you need me ... just ... yeah?"

The back of Ianto's head moved as it nodded, and Jack took that as confirmation that he'd read Ianto right. Glumly, he scuffed his trainers on the concrete walkway as he wandered down the few cells distance to Owen's lair. The man himself _still_ wasn't back from his phone call, so Jack stretched out on the bottom bunk and stared at the mattress above him, losing himself in thought as he waited.

Half a minute later, and he was bored. Fidgeting, he got back up and clambered up onto the top bunk, lying on his belly and peering out of the window. In the distance, he could see the clusters of large, semi-detached houses, their roofs poking up between moorland and rolling hills, and one house, the one with the blue guttering, stood out most. He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps stomping into the room, and turned to glance over his shoulder at Owen.

"What do you want?" Owen demanded irritably.

"Ianto got back from the hospital - "

"I'll look at him later. For fuck's sake, give him a chance to breathe."

"That wasn't what I was saying," Jack sighed, turning back to look at the house with blue guttering again.

Owen shuffled on the spot. "It's Katie," he blurted out, almost as if he hadn't meant to say anything but the words were desperate to be heard.

Jack turned to look at him again. "She okay?"

"No," Owen breathed shakily. "No ... she's really not."

~*~*~*~

The key scraped in the lock behind him, and Jack sat on his mattress by Ianto's feet. Ianto wasn't sleeping, just staring at the wall in front of him. "How's Owen?" he eventually asked.

Jack bit his lip, considering how to word it. "A mess," he settled on saying.

"Oh?" frowned Ianto, turning his head slightly.

"On the outside he has a finacèe. She was taken to hospital this morning, so don't expect too much from him for a while."

"You sure he's gonna be okay? On his own?"

"He'll be as fine as he can be. How are you, Ianto?" Jack asked gently. Slowly, Ianto pulled himself up to a sitting position.

"I think I'm nearly done wallowing in self pity," he mumbled. "It's just that I can see it happening. Everything fading ..."

"Let me have a look?"

Jack gently grasped Ianto's chin and looked into his eyes. Already, the right one seemed paler and whiter, if only slightly. He realised that Ianto's eyes weren't focused on his, but actually a little lower. Jack flicked his tongue out to wet his lower lip. Carefully he leaned in, and pressed a kiss to Ianto's mouth. He felt eyelashes tickle his cheek as Ianto's eyes fluttered closed, and pulled back slightly to touch their noses together.

"Jack?" Ianto whispered.

"Mmm?"

"Jack ... I ... erm ..." Ianto gently pushed Jack a little out of his personal space. "When I was in hospital ... they let me on the computer ... and I ... I Googled you."

"... oh. And?"

"Well ... I ... I ..."

"Do you think I did it?"

Ianto swallowed, very aware of the fact he was locked in the same room as Jack. "I ... I don't think you did."

"Honestly?"

Scratching his head, Ianto shrugged. "You just seem ... not like that."

Jack's lips quirked. "Would you believe me? If I told you I didn't?"

Biting his lip, he weighed Jack up for a moment. "I think I would."

"Because you _would_ believe it, or because you _want_ to believe it?"

"Would you want me to believe it?"

Jack seemed to search his face for a second. "I sort of did it," he eventually said.

Ianto's eyes widened. "What do you mean ... 'sort of did it'?"

Jack shrugged, and Ianto figured that was the nearest thing to an answer he was going to get if he carried on pushing the matter. "I'll arm wrestle you for the red blanket?" he offered, and Jack laughed despite not moving to take up the offer. There was a silence, and Ianto took a deep breath in slowly, then let it out.

"Jack ... I ... did we make a mistake? Sleeping together?"

"It was just a bit of fun, Ianto. It ... y'know ... it didn't _mean_ anything ... Did it?"

Ianto flustered a little. "Well ... not if ... y'know ... not that I know of."

Jack nodded along with him.

"And," Ianto continued. "If we were on the outside, it would never have happened, right? I mean ... like … Y'know?"

Jack was nodding as Ianto trailed off, and there was an awkward silence.

"It is fun though."

"Oh yeah," Jack agreed, and gave him a large grin.

Ianto smiled back, tugging his blanket distractedly before yawning. "I think I'm going to get ready for bed, now," he decided.

"Me too. Erm … you wanna … Y'know?"

"I'm tired," Ianto groaned, as much as he did like playing 'Let's Undress Ianto'.

Jack shrugged. "Okay," he said, and they left each other to get ready for bed in peace. Washed, changed and teeth brushed, they curled up on their respective mattresses and eventually fell asleep.

Coming with Jack to the gym had been a much better idea than practice. Ianto didn't mind the other guys hanging around so much, the sound or sight of them working their muscles, sweat glistening over shirtless chests or the grunting and groaning that was borderline indecent.

Ianto didn't mind that at all.

It was the sight and sound of Jack working his muscles, sweat glistening over his shirtless chest and grunting and groaning in a way that was borderline indecent that was getting Ianto rather hot and bothered himself.

_Stupid Jack_, he thought. _It's like he's **trying** to get me in trouble … _

"Here, you try," Jack offered, getting up from the multi-gym he'd been using and sitting Ianto down on the seat in front of the weight stack. Jack read him the Health and Safety information from the laminated piece of card dangling from the top of it, and when Ianto rolled his eyes gave him a slap around the back of the head. "You could seriously hurt yourself, and I'm not being your nurse."

"Good," Ianto mumbled low, "the thought of you in a dress is distinctly unnerving."

Jack bent down low so that he could move the pin and lessen the weight Ianto would be lifting, but mainly as an excuse to get close to his ears. "You know you'd love it," he muttered. "I've worn a dress before, and I know I did …" He straightened up and clapped his hands together. "Right – lift that," he ordered.

Ianto curled his fingers around the handle bars in front of the chair and pushed them up easily. "Huh?" he frowned.

"I'm gauging where you're up to," Jack explained. "No good me guessing what you can lift, getting it wrong and you hurting yourself." He leaned over the machine again and moved the pin to add more weight to the pulleys. "Try that."

Ianto pushed the the bar up again, meeting a little more resistance. Jack moved the pin a few more times, until Ianto found where he was 'up to', as Jack had put it.

"Do twenty," Jack ordered. "Try and keep to the same rhythm and speed."

By the time he got to nine, Ianto was thinking that he'd probably had enough exercise for the day. Jack, however, who seemed to have appointed himself as Ianto's personal trainer, was refusing to let up. "You haven't even hit your pain barrier yet," he admonished when Ianto got to fourteen.

"I'm gonna hit you in a minute," Ianto muttered. Jack laughed, and Ianto glared at him. "Fiffffffteeeeeeen," Ianto groaned, "Yep … that's definitely enough now," he decided.

"Ah ah." Jack pushed him back into the chair.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Ianto grumbled.

Jack leaned in, relenting and moving the pin up one weight. "Don't be such a drama queen," he muttered, loud enough for only Ianto to hear. Ianto sensed the real underlying insult, and felt his fists tighten around the handles. He didn't wait for Jack to step away before pushing them up, and quite nearly hit Jack's groin with quite a bit of force.

Bloody Jack.

Always one step ahead.

He'd jumped back with a grin that Ianto could've forgiven anything, and cheerily announced Ianto's sixteenth push.

When he finally reached twenty, Ianto's arms felt like overcooked spaghetti and his stomach muscles ached. Jack moved the pin in the weights and they switched, Jack easily lifting half of the weight stack twenty times to the same rhythm and jumping up again.

"Your turn."

"You can fuck off. I'm going to do some-"

"You could do legs next – You," he barked at the guy currently sat and pushing a weighted board with his feet, "shift."

"But-"

"I said _shift_," Jack snapped, and the guy got up and moved. Jack's demeanour changed instantly, grinning brightly at Ianto. "Your turn."

"I could have just waited …"

"Life's too short, and I'm impatient. Sit."

Ianto sat on the padded chair, resting back at a forty-five degree angle and putting his feet up to push against the metal square. It was attached to a horizontal bar, that had a weight stack at the end of it that Ianto was supposed to move.

"Keep your back on the chair," Jack instructed. "Don't use your stomach muscles to push – make sure it's all in the legs."

After the legs, they tried a few more weight machines before the bell rang for lunch. Ianto was pretty much ready to be carried out and tucked into bed, his limbs all stringy and his body tired. He ate his lunch on autopilot before drifting up to the cell and collapsing onto his mattress.

Jack leaned in the doorway, arms folded and amusedly watching him. "Good work out?"

"I hate you."

"You'll thank me for it," Jack assured him.

"I hate you."

"Half an hour of rest and you'll feel better than you have in years."

"I hate you."

Ianto heard the cell door closing and Jack's trainers getting a little closer. His mattress dipped as Jack sat and leaned over him, his lips close to his ear. "What about if I give you a massage, Mr. Jones?"

"Middle of the day," Ianto mumbled into his pillow. "Too dangerous."

"Bit of danger could be fun," Jack whispered, taking the lobe of Ianto's ear into his mouth and sucking and biting gently. Ianto groaned.

"I can't," he sighed.

Jack let go of his earlobe and sighed, too, leaning up a little to rest his chin on Ianto's shoulder.

"I know," Ianto yawned. "Why don't you go and check on Owen while I grab a power nap?"

"I suppose I should. You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine."

"I don't want to leave you on your own."

"You've left me on my own lots of times," Ianto pointed out, yawning again.

"That was before."

"You sorted out Ugly Jack, though."

Jack sat up, settling his back against the wall. "Adam and Unit are after you."

"Huh?"

"Adam and Unit – from the other side. They're after you."

Ianto sat up as best he could. "After me?"

"You don't worry about. Alex and me are on top of the situation."

"Alex and _I_."

"Is now really the situation?"

"Sorry."

"Anyway … While Alex and _me_ are getting on top of the situation, I'm not too sure leaving you on your own is a good idea just yet."

Ianto let out a long sigh, then curled up under his blanket again. "Wake me up in half an hour," he mumbled, and drifted off.

_So good so far,_ Jack thought to himself, waiting a few minutes to make sure Ianto was really asleep. Getting up, he calmly left the cell door open about a foot and a half, then broke out into his usual confident gait, heading for the stairs. He passed Alex's door, and rapped his knuckles three times in quick succession without breaking his stride. He got to the cell at the very end of the row, and leaned in the frame with folded arms.

"How's the severe bruising?" he asked, amusedly.

Ugly Jack looked up at him, and slowly rose up from the bunk he was sitting on. "It's good to go?" he asked.

"It's good to go," Jack nodded, then nodded toward the young man, Ugly Jack's cell mate, lingering in the corner. "Is he just going to stand there all day, or what?"

"Jake," Ugly Jack said, and jerked his head in the direction of the door. Jake didn't ask twice and got out as fast as he could. Ugly Jack turned back to Jack, massaging his stiff, bruised neck. "So we just wait for the signal, yeah?"

Jack nodded, entering the cell and making a beeline for the shelves above the wooden desk and picking things up to look at them, turn them over in his hands and then put them back. He picked up a wooden necklace resting on the edge of the shelves, and recalled Ianto owned one of similar style. He wondered if Ianto would like this one.

"This is nice," he said.

"My son sent it for me."

"Cute," Jack nodded, then put it in his pocket. He could feel Ugly Jack's want to protest and carefully ignored it. Sauntering over to sit on lean against the bunk beds, Jack folded his arms and waited for the signal, sensing Ugly Jack's apprehension and carefully masking his own.

The minutes dragged by, but they finally heard it.

A knock on the opposite wall, three times.

Jack left his uglier counterpart to answer it, and shot down the hallway, slowing to step carefully and approaching his now closed cell door. With a gentle push, it opened slightly, and there was Unit, crouching over Ianto's sleeping form. Setting his jaw, Jack slipped into the room.

"Interesting hobby," he quipped, and Unit froze. Jack could see the syringe in his hand, thankfully still full as he'd struggled a little to get Ianto's sleeve up his arm without waking him. "Want to back away from him now, or are things going to have to get even nastier?"

Unit smiled at him.

Suddenly, Jack was grabbed from behind – Adam had been hidden behind the door in case Jack returned, lying in wait.

But of course, Jack already expected that.

The moment Adam had him, Ugly Jack was in the room to deal with Unit, trapping him in a headlock. Handsome Jack backed into the wall as fast as he could, slamming Adam into it until he let go, then shoving his knee right in between Adam's legs and temporarily disarming him. He glanced over, spotting Ianto had woken up and, after a moment, sprung to action. Ianto copied Jack, got Unit right in the balls, forcing him to collapse and the syringe left to roll toward Jack's feet.

The two Saxons were on the floor, groaning, and the two Jacks were out of breath and feeling the adrenalin. Handsome Jack crouched and picked up the syringe, and Ianto's eyes widened when he saw it. "What the Hell's going on?" he demanded.

"Unit here -" Jack said, then kicked Unit. "- was going to dose you with heroin. And Adam there -" Jack kicked Adam. "- was standing guard."

There was a kerfuffle outside the cell, and Officers Cooper, Guppy and Holroyd appeared and took in the scene before them. Holroyd sighed, taking out her notebook while Gwen and Alice set to work on getting Unit and Adam in cuffs.

A few recounts and a good telling off later, Adam and Unit were held in indefinite isolation, and Jack and Ianto were left alone in their cell.

"Why?" Ianto asked eventually, breaking the silence.

"Why what?"

"Why were they gonna … y'know. The heroin?"

Jack searched carefully for words. "They shove that stuff in your veins, and that's it: addicted. You want more, and more – and they're the only ones who can get it for you. You could go cold turkey … but that seems like more Hell than it's worth when you actually try it. You're stuck in that cycle, and they have more control over you than you can imagine."

"But why would they want to do that to _me_?"

Jack's mouth opened and closed mutely, then he swallowed. "Because they were," he decided, in a firm tone that was allowing no argument. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the rest of the sounds around them from what seemed like far away.

"You were right," Ianto eventually said.

"Hm?"

"I do feel better than I have in ages."

Jack grinned. "Vigorous exercise worth it?"

"From this side of it."

"Wanna make it a weekly thing?"

"Not really."

Jack laughed, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I think you should. It's fun."

"No it isn't," Ianto frowned, wondering how on Earth Jack might have perceived that morning as 'fun'.

"Yes it is," Jack insisted. "Once you get used to the routine and stuff it gets easier."

"I'm not a gym person," Ianto groaned. "One workout and I know I'm going to be aching for days."

"Only the first few times. Your body will love you and release all sorts of happy hormones as a reward."

"I'd rather just let chocolate release the happy endorphins."

"Don't be daft. We'll do the gym every Tuesday morning from now on, okay?"

It dawned on Ianto that Jack had already made up his mind about this. He'd simply have to go along with it and be difficult and bratty until Jack decided it wasn't fun any more. He nodded his agreement, and Jack clapped him on the back. "Good man," he grinned.

"Shall we go and see Owen?" Ianto suggested, wanting to change the subject.

Jack nodded, and they got to their feet and headed toward Owen's cell. "Knock, knock," Jack called, poking his head around the door frame.

Owen was where they had left him after breakfast – sat on the lower bunk, staring into space.

"Owen?" Jack tried, and slowly Owen looked up.

"Hi, Jack."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine, thank you. How are you?"

Jack sat next to him, and put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Not too bad."

Ianto hovered, wondering if he was actually welcome while Owen was so distressed. Owen didn't seem to notice him, his eyes still glassed over. "I can't believe she's dead," Owen whispered, and Ianto stared at the floor awkwardly. Jack flinched slightly, tightening his grip on Owen's shoulder before pulling him close and holding him tight.

Swallowing, unsure what to make of the way Jack and Owen were clinging together, Ianto made a quick exit and headed back to his cell. Curling up in the corner on his mattress, he pulled Jack's copy of _Dorian Gray_ out from under his pillow and flicked to where he'd last stopped reading, keeping one eye on the door as he did so.

He recalled, as he read, that Owen had mentioned he'd once slept with Jack. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ianto reminded himself that it would be a situation never repeated, that Jack and Owen were close and that Owen was in desperate need of comfort and Jack wouldn't take advantage of that.

Snapping the book shut, Ianto reminded himself that he didn't really know Jack at all. The second he thought he'd figured something out, Jack would complete contradict the conclusion and set up a whole new angle for Ianto to misunderstand.

Ianto had thought him different from the other prisoners, but then he'd seen the relish with which he had kicked and stamped on a defenceless and outnumbered man. He'd thought him misjudged, but then Jack had admitted he was, in some way, guilty of his charged crimes – crimes that Ianto didn't dare to repeat over in his head in case he made himself fear Jack. Jack was cool, calm and confident, but so insecure and unsure and desperate for approval.

The only thing that Ianto could be certain of was that Jack was the kindest fucking_bastard_ on the planet.

Rubbing his right eye, Ianto got up and checked it in the mirror. It hadn't gotten any better, but it hadn't gotten worse either. He'd almost forgotten about it earlier, in fact, and since it happened Ianto had never forgotten. Maybe working himself to exhaustion in the gym might help, after all.

Jack appeared in the doorway, then frowned in concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah … Just checking up on it."

"It hasn't changed since you came back," Jack told him, digging into his pocked for something.

"Mmmm," Ianto agreed, tearing himself away from the mirror.

"Here," Jack smiled, holding his hand out, "I got you something." He opened his palm, revealing the different shades of wooden beads on a string, and Ianto took it and stretched it out.

"How did you know I liked these?" he asked, certain that Jack wasn't simply giving him his own beads back.

"You have one in your box," Jack shrugged. "Do you like it?"

Ianto nodded, and grinned sheepishly. "Where did you get it from?"

"That's telling," Jack winked, turning him around so that he could fasten it around his neck for him. He slid his finger underneath the beads to help them lie straight, feeling Ianto's pulse jump beneath his fingertips. Keeping his hand where it was on Ianto's neck, he reached over and pushed the cell door shut.

"Oh no, Jack … We can't," Ianto complained, reading Jack's train of thought. Jack simply chuckled, deep and playful.

"Don't I get a reward for doing good?" Jack asked suggestively, pressing his lips divinely against the skin of Ianto's neck.

"Can't you be patient?"

"No," Jack mumbled into his skin, pulling open all of Ianto's boiler suit buttons in one and pushing his hips forward so that Ianto was sandwiched between him and the sink.

"Wanker," Ianto muttered, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, Jack's fingers slipping below the waistband of his underwear and playing with him. He let out a quiet, happy sigh, feeling himself melting against Jack's body.

Footsteps approached from outside, and Ianto tensed. Jack stilled his hand, glancing to the door, getting ready to jump back if need be.

The footsteps carried on, away from them, and Ianto sagged a little with relief. He pulled Jack's hand out of his clothes and started fastening up again. "We shouldn't be that stupid," he admonished, cutting Jack off before he could leer.

"Yeah … You're right," Jack conceded.

Ianto went to stand back in front of the mirror again, holding his glass tumbler up to his face in the hope of cooling the blush of arousal on his cheeks.

"I'm bored," Jack complained. "Can we go outside and play basketball or something?"

"I hate basketball," Ianto reminded him, going to sit on his mattress and waiting for Jack to join him. "What else do you want to do? - apart from _that_ …"

Jack sighed. "We could go and see what's on the TV, I suppose."

Ianto sighed heavily. "Saxons hog the TV."

Jack shrugged. "Count it as a half-blessing – half our lot would just put Jeremy Kyle on anyway."

"There's only so many re-runs of _Come Dine With Me_ I can sit through, though," Ianto reminded him. "Especially since half the Saxons are just watching it so they can figure out where the rich peoples' houses are and rob 'em when they get out."

"If a dick's gonna stand in front of his fifty-two inch flat screen home cinema system and gloat about it, he's got it coming," shrugged Jack. "Tell you what – we'll see who's got the TV, see what's on the TV and then if it's all wank we'll go and outside and do something."

"Fine," Ianto compromised, and they made their way down to the corner of the wing where a few chairs, a few sofas and one or two tiny tables were set up, facing a small TV screen held high up in a corner. It was held in a cage, and the remote control was chained to it so that it couldn't get 'lost'.

The remote was currently being clutched by a group of four youngish Saxons who seemed to think they were untouchable, jeering at one or two members of Torchwood who were trying to watch whatever crap they'd put on the TV. Jack gave Ianto a playful grin, walked up to the couch and gave the one holding the remote a pretty hard whack around the back of the head, jerking his hand and signalling for him and his friends to move.

"Fuck off," sniggered the one Jack had smacked.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You wanna start something, kid?"

Ianto managed to maintain his passive expression, folding his arms and adding a set to his jaw. The urge to roll his eyes, however, was almost too much. He stood firmly by Jack's side, as he'd seen John and Owen do on his first day.

"_You wanna start something, kid?_" the Saxon mimicked, mangling the accent.

Ianto did, finally, get to roll his eyes while Jack laughed along with the group of Saxons.

"Seriously, _kid_," Jack enunciated, "move, before I throw you across the room."

"I'd like to see you try," Kid muttered.

Jack shrugged, and with a grunt of effort dragged the boy up from his seat and slammed him against the wall. The wind knocked out of him, the Saxon's cocky attitude vanished.

"You wanna repeat that?" growled Jack, and Ianto moved out of the way he was fairly certain the boy would fly in if he riled Jack any further. He didn't reply, however, and a moment later Jack and Ianto were sat on the uncomfortable sofa flicking through the channels as the four Saxons slunk off.

Ianto decided not to say anything about what had just happened until later on.

Everything on the TV wasn't really to anybody's liking, and Ianto had to be dragged outside by his collar, given a basic outline of the rules of basketball by a few Torchwood people before being thrust onto the court.

After half an hour, Ianto was starting to actually enjoy himself. He was tired from his workout that morning, but this was a different kind of exercise … This was kind of … fun. Especially since he and Jack were actually working quite well together as a team and winning by miles.

Eventually, the other two they were playing against – the man Alex shared with, called Tommy, and an older guy called Gerald – decided they'd had enough and conceded defeat. They all began to make their way inside, checking their watching and anticipating the bell indicating food, when they spotted a large, irate crowd by one side of the cafeteria.

"What's going on?" Jack demanded, and someone pushed a red piece of A5 into his hands. "Woah … woah …" he scowled, reading it, "_'Wing C is due for a much needed reorganisation_'? What. The. Fuck?"

Ianto read over his shoulder. "_'Behaviour both post and prior to this announcement will be taken into account, and cell mates reassigned in due course._'. They're splitting us all up," Ianto breathed. "They're splitting us all up, and they're going to destroy everything that's established."

"We're going to kill each other."

"I don't want to move," Ianto admitted quietly. "Jack …"

"I know," Jack cut him off brusquely, "we'll just have to butter up Cooper a bit." He began to make his way back up to their cell, and Ianto followed close behind.

"At least you'll be all right, though," Ianto mumbled, sinking onto his mattress. "What am I going to do? What if they split us up?"

"It'll be all right."

"What if I end up with one of the bigger Saxons? What will he do to me?"

"I'm going to Alex's," Jack announced.

"Jack!"

"What?"

"What will they do to me? If I end up with a Saxon?"

Jack averted his gaze. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," he advised.

"What?"

"Become a Saxon."

"But I chose Torchwood."

"Then choose again."

"What if they … ask stuff? About you?"

"Then tell them," shrugged Jack, "and tell them the truth."

"But-"

"I'll be fine," Jack placated him. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I've been much better behaved since I got put in with you, so maybe they'll leave us be. I'll talk to my solicitor and find out what our rights are. They can't knowingly put you in with someone who would hurt you, I'm sure."

"I suppose if they do move us, we could always just take ourselves back."

"Mmm," Jack agreed, stretching. "Bridge when we come to it," he repeated, then glanced up at the door when a knock rang from it. "Come in," he called, and Owen pushed poked his head in.

"Hey – Alex wants us," he said, his voice still a little hoarse. "Us … and him." Owen pointed at Ianto.

"Good. I wanna see Alex, too. Have you heard the wonderful news, Owen?"

Owen nodded. "Probably what Alex wants us for. A big, massive 'I told you so'."

"I doubt it," Jack derisively snorted. "If this crap goes down, he loses his throne, and Alex really won't like that."

"You lose your second status," Owen reminded him, "I'm guessing you're not going to like that, either."

"Well, no," Jack grinned. "But unlike Alex, I'm wouldn't have to rely on who I used to be to climb the ladder again."

Owen's eyebrow raised. "You should be careful what you say, Jack."

"You're gonna tell on me? You're as sick of Alex as I am."

"Be careful, Jack," Owen advised, "there's rumours of a Round Robin doing the circuit, and if Alex finds any sign of it …"

"I'll keep my ears open," Jack promised. "Ianto will, too – Anyway: to Alex's cell."

Ianto followed behind, never having been summoned to one of these 'Alex's Cell' meetings before. Once he got there, he figured it was nothing special – just Alex sitting on his wooden chair and everyone else either sat on the bunk or the floor. Jack sat Ianto up on the top bunk, then assumed his position stood behind Alex.

"Well, I'm guessing you've all seen the notices," Alex began, his bitterness highlighting his accent slightly, "the real problem is what we're going to do about it. Suggestions?"

"Nothing," Jack cut in before anyone else, "We let them do what the Hell they want, then move ourselves back."

There was a murmur of agreement, and without waiting for any further challenges, Alex decided they could all 'have a think' and reconvene later. He moved on to talk about fighting and getting along, and Ianto found himself yawning and drifting to gaze out the window.

He came back to his senses when Jack clapped his hands together, signalling the end of the apparent board meeting. Ianto hopped down from the bunk, lingering and waiting for Jack.

"Carry on, Ianto," Jack said, pushing him toward the door. "I need to talk to Alex."

Ianto considered going to Owen's, but decided that Owen was probably still after only his own thoughts. Wary of being left alone after what Jack had been saying that morning, and having to remind himself that Unit and Adam were in isolation, he went straight back to his cell and pushed the door to just as the bell for dinner rang out.

Ianto decided to wait near the stairs for Jack, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he did so. Eventually, Jack emerged from Alex's cell looking thoroughly displeased about something. He joined Ianto, and they began to make their way down the stairs.

"You've got a face like a slapped arse," Ianto observed. "What's up?"

"I'll tell you later," Jack promised, and they pushed their way to the front of the dinner line without challenge. Instead of going to an empty table, Jack led them over to where Alex was going to be sitting, on the right-hand side of Alex's place. He indicated Ianto should sit on Jack's right, and began to quietly eat.

"We're expecting a new addition today," Jack muttered in undertones.

"Good news or bad news?" asked Ianto.

"Depends how you look at it."

"Oh?"

"He's a high profile convict. Evan Sherman."

Ianto frowned. "Name rings a bell," he nodded.

"He's here on abduction charges – they couldn't prove the accusation that he's a cannibal."

Ianto pushed his plate away. "Oh. Yeah."

"We don't really wanna be mixing with him," Jack sighed, "but we don't want the other side to get him either."

Alex arrived, and began eating without saying a word to either of them, waiting for Evan Sherman to arrive.

The cafeteria was full by the time he did, and the same quiet that had fallen when Ianto had been brought out into the fray fell again. There was something more tense to it this time, though.

Evan Sherman was middle-aged, weathered, and had eyes that weren't entirely in the room with the rest of him. He seemed genuinely pleased that everyone was staring at him, and smiled at them all unnervingly.

Jack muttered a 'No' to Alex, and Alex nodded, continuing his food and waiting for Harold Saxon to make his move.

Five minutes later, the Saxons had a new favourite.

~*~*~*~

The lock scraped shut, and Jack called another 'goodnight' to Officer Davidson. He sauntered over to where Ianto was finishing brushing his teeth, and slid arms around his waist.

"Here we are again," he muttered, smiling at their reflections before nipping Ianto's neck and sucking and kissing and licking a small patch of skin.

"Mmmmm," Ianto agreed, "And this time we can do what we want …"

"It feels like it's been far too long," Jack sighed, turning Ianto around and pressing their mouths together, the taste of toothpaste strong on both their tongues. Ianto tried not to melt too much, but Jack was being so gentle with him it almost took him by surprise. He felt frustrated that Jack wasn't letting his hands wander lower than Ianto's waist, and eventually grabbed them and plonked them firmly on his arse.

Jack laughed into his mouth at the brazen gesture, then upped the stakes by simply taking Ianto's hand shoving it down the front of his trousers and straight onto his cock.

Ianto laughed, too, and squeezed gently, and Jack grunted and broke the kiss. Bringing his other hand up to the back of Jack's neck, Ianto pulled him back in roughly, kissing him again and giving him another squeeze. He managed to push Jack up against the wall, pressing his thigh between Jack's legs and rubbing against him as he removed his hands.

Jack tugged his hair until their mouths parted, and out of breath he grinned at Ianto. "Look at you," he sighed. "Where have your reservations gone?"

Ianto shrugged, then left him to go and sprawl over his mattress while pulling the top half of his boiler suit down and tugging off his t-shirt.

"Hey," Jack complained. "Undressing Ianto is _my_ job," he pouted.

"Then get over here and _do_ your job," Ianto smirked, laughing as he had to grip the far edge of the mattress, lying on his belly while Jack pulled his boiler suit, underwear, trainers and socks off all in one. The air was pushed out of his lungs as Jack flopped down on top of him, still fully clothed, and ground down into his naked thigh on instinct.

Dipping his head, Jack went straight for the pulse-point of Ianto's neck, kissing the sensitive skin. Ianto hummed in delight, tilting his head as far as he could to give Jack more room.

"I want to be on top this time," he muttered, eyes fluttering closed.

Jack chuckled huskily, and raised his head a little suck an earlobe between his teeth. "You do, do you?" he asked, pressing a kiss to Ianto's temple, then another to his cheek.

"Yeah," Ianto replied, his voice a little strangled. "I wanna … _uh_ … I wanna ride you. See what it's like when you're underneath me."

Realisation dawned on Jack. "Ahhh," he smirked, returning his attention to Ianto's neck. "You mean on top, not top top."

"Ahuh," Ianto grunted, "I want you to fuck me a few more times before giving it you. I wanna … _mmmm_ … I wanna experiment."

Jack grinned wolfishly, kneeling up and straddling Ianto's thighs as he pulled off his t-shirt, wondering if there was a switch inside Ianto's brain that turned him from the quieter, sarcastic and seemingly more reserved self into the horny young man lying naked on his belly before him, telling him he wanted to experiment with being fucked and exactly how he wanted it done.

Dropping his hands from tossing his shirt aside, Jack pulled open the last couple of poppers while Ianto got himself up on all fours and pushed himself back into Jack's groin. "I wanna try it this way, too," he said, turning to look at Jack over his shoulder.

Jack could only nod, his lips parted and dry.

Ianto straightened up, so that his back was pressed against Jack's chest. "Like this, too," he murmured, tipping his head back over Jack's shoulder, turning slightly and softly kissing Jack's jaw. "In fact, I've made up quite a list …"

Ianto chuckled throatily, feeling Jack's clothes behind him pushed down and bare erection press against his flesh. He tingled with anticipation, gently nudging himself back against it. He hissed when Jack scraped teeth over his shoulder, and fell forward with a grunt as Jack forced him back down onto all fours. "Wait there," Jack said, getting up and taking condoms and lube from the CD player.

Ianto laughed, and received a quick smack on the backside. He gasped in shock more than pain, then laughed again. Jack knelt behind him and gave him another slap, setting down his things. "Was this on the list?" Jack asked, massaging Ianto's buttock then giving it another smack

Ianto turned his head to look at him over his shoulder again, and he was smirking. He bit his lip when Jack hit him again. "It is now," Ianto decided, balancing on one arm to reach down his body and play with himself a little.

"Heyy," Jack complained, reaching between Ianto's legs and stilling the hand. "You're not supposed to do that."

"Bugger off. I want to."

Jack clicked his tongue, and slapped Ianto's backside harder than he had before. Ianto let out a slight grunt, stroking himself a little faster and laughing again.

"Why do you keep laughing?" Jack demanded.

"Because … _ah!_ … Because it feels good."

"Does it hurt?" Jack asked, rubbing and squeezing before smacking again.

"My arm's aching a bit," Ianto panted, "Might have to switch."

"What if I tell you you're not allowed to switch?" Jack asked with a predatory smirk, leaning down to scrape teeth over Ianto's earlobe and nip harshly.

"What if I tell you to bugger off?" Ianto replied, breathlessly indignant, stopping his strokes and bringing his arm down so that he was on all fours again. He waited a moment, then glanced over his shoulder once more. "Well?"

"What?"

Ianto laughed, then let himself down to lie on his side. "I thought you were going to carry on," he said, still smiling.

"Then get back up then," Jack grinned.

"Ah no – the moment's gone now."

"The moment?" Jack asked, confused.

"Yeah. The moment," Ianto repeated, his voice dropping low as he moved to kneel up in front of Jack, sliding hands around his waist. "Kiss me," he demanded, and Jack obliged hungrily, too distracted for a moment to realise that Ianto was pushing him, until he landed on his back, Ianto straddling him.

They kissed for a few minutes, until Jack was so frustrated that Ianto wasn't moving his mouth anywhere lower that he broke it. "I do have erogenous zones," he reminded him, eyes dark and voice husky. It looked to him as though Ianto thought he'd been chastised, and he saw the confident mask slip slightly and smile twitch a little. Jack sat up a little, and Ianto suddenly seemed at a loss with what to do, so Jack gently pulled his head closer and tucked it into his neck. "There," he said quietly, running a hand down Ianto's back.

Ianto's tongue touched his skin and he hitched his breath on purpose. It spurred Ianto's confidence up once more, and his hands and tongue and teeth became sure and purposeful again. He moved around, peppering Jack's collarbone with kisses, and Jack was breaking out into a glistening sweat that made Ianto begin to flick his tongue out to taste.

He moved lower down Jack's chest, and Jack let out an almost embarrassing sound when Ianto's incisors grazed his right nipple. He leaned back on his hands, tilting his chin to the ceiling as his eyes drifted closed, Ianto's tongue swirling around his nipple and lips kissing sensitive skin sloppily.

Eventually, he had to stop him again. "Here," he said softly, hoping he hadn't offended Ianto into thinking he was 'doing it wrong'. "Here – learn from me, not hospital porn."

He tilted Ianto's head back, and kissed and nibbled from neck to chest, then gently began to very slowly show Ianto what he meant.

To Ianto, it felt strange at first, the slow and deliberate way Jack concentrated on that tiny patch of his body – but Jack was good at concentrating when he had to. Ianto rested his chin on Jack's head, ran fingers through Jack's hair and tried to pay attention to what Jack was doing - the tiny, flicks of tongue, the lips kissing him, the hot breath on warm saliva cooling and sensitizing, the occasional electric scrape of teeth.

Jack tried to raise his head, and Ianto scowled and shoved his head back into his chest. Laughing, Jack disentangled himself, leaning back and waiting for Ianto to try and replicate his actions on him.

Kissing a circle, Ianto closed his mouth over Jack's nipple and gently, rather than crudely, swirled his tongue around it and nipped his teeth.

"Perfect …" Jack breathed, tangling fingers in Ianto's hair.

After a minute or so, Ianto pushed the tube of lubricant into Jack's hand and moved back up to kiss his mouth and push his tongue insistently inside. Jack lay them both down, kneeling up and warming a little gel between his fingers. Ianto made a show of sliding his hands down the insides of his thighs, running the fingertips up his legs until he could hold onto his heels as Jack slid a finger inside him.

"Pay attention," Jack muttered, and gave Ianto's thigh a gentle slap. "You won't learn if you don't pay attention."

"Mmmmm," Ianto sighed, "I am paying attention, sir," he smiled, opening one eye and checking to see how well-received his petulance may have been. He gasped at the sudden burn as Jack added another finger, and bit his lip and sucked on it hard as Jack thrust his fingers in again.

"Is that uncomfortable?" Jack asked, holding his fingers still and waited for Ianto to nod. "Now you know not to do that to me then, don't you?"

"Unless you're being a prick," Ianto pointed out, squeezing his muscles down on the fingers inside him. Jack curled the fingers in retaliation and pressed into his prostate.

Jack took an agonisingly long time, and eventually Ianto had to let go of his heels and put his legs down, Jack was taking so long. He finally used his thumbs to hold Ianto open, checking he was stretched enough, before lying down beside him and kissing him hungrily.

Ianto rolled them so that he was on top, and knelt up, straddling Jack's waist and taking a deep breath. "You can't just lie there and do nothing," he said, as Jack slid a hand down to lift his cock and guide it toward Ianto's hole.

"I promise," Jack murmured, reaching up with his other hand to touch Ianto's face.

Ianto looked into his eyes as he felt for the hard, hot, blunt tip, feeling it press against his entrance and rocked back, willing it to push inside. Jack raised his hips instinctively, his breath catching as Ianto continued to lower himself down.

Together they found a painfully slow rhythm, Ianto rocking himself back and forward while Jack raised his hips to meet him. Ianto leaned back on one hand, using his other to stroke himself and Jack raised his head to admire the view. He wanted to keep his head up while maintaining his grip on Ianto's thighs, and Ianto glanced up, then reached behind him for his pillow.

They both hissed at the dramatic change of angle as Ianto leaned forward to tuck the pillow beneath Jack's head, then hissed again when he leaned back on his hand, again using the other to wank as he raised his hips up and down. Jack watched with darkened, hooded eyes that slid shut when Ianto purposefully tightened his muscles and squeezed him for a few strokes, then relaxed for a few more before tightening again.

"Ianto … I'm gonna … I'm gonna …"

Ianto squeezed down harder, feeling Jack's whole body tremor as hot liquid spurted out inside him and fingers bruised into his thighs. He worked his own cock harder, moving his hips to take Jack through his orgasm and to his afterglow. He spurted up over his own chest and stomach as Jack watched him come through his haze, before pulling himself out and laying Ianto down to crawl up his body and lick him clean.

"Jack," Ianto murmured, "Jack …"

He could feel Jack's come sliding out of him, and a realisation hit. "Jack … Jack, we forgot to use a condom …"

Jack raised his head, turning it to glance at the foil packet, abandoned on the concrete floor just within arm's reach. "Oh … fuck."

Ianto pushed him off, crossing to the corner and starting to pull tissue from the roll to see if wiping Jack away might help. "What if you've given me something?" Ianto demanded. "How many people have you slept with?"

"Ianto …"

"How many?"

Jack took a deep breath, and Ianto's heart began to sink as he saw that Jack was counting in his head. Jack cleared his throat. "A few," he settled on saying.

"Few?"

"Four or five."

"Hundred?"

"No. Four or five. You, Owen, John, Lucia and Estelle. Only Owen pretends we never slept together so … four or five."

Ianto seemed surprised by this, and hesitated what he was doing. He glanced down at the floor slightly. "Did you ever …?"

"Without a condom?"

Ianto nodded.

"I was married to Lucia. We had a baby together – and I've had tests since then. But other than her …"

"Oh. Will I be all right, then?"

"You can have tests if you want them. I won't be offended or anything – we'll both have them. If we ask Cooper, she'll get us sorted. But I think that unless you're ovulating, we'll be fine."

"I'd rather be safe than sorry." Ianto flushed his tissue away before dropping down beside Jack. He toyed with the hair on his legs a moment before pulling his blanket around him. "Annie, Oname and Lisa," he muttered quietly, and Jack nodded, pulling him into a hug.

"We'll be fine," he repeated firmly.

Ianto picked up the foil packet, glaring at it. "How did we forget?"

"We were too caught up, I suppose."

"And … you were married? You have a child?"

Jack's mouth opened and closed. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"I won't tell anyone," Ianto assured him. "Even if I have to switch sides – but that means you can't tell anyone about Rhiannon."

"I wasn't gonna," Jack said, putting an arm around his shoulders and yawning. He lay down, pulling Ianto to lie in front of him so that he could press himself against his back.

They lay quietly for a while, waiting to fall asleep, when Jack spoke again.

"The house with the blue guttering," he mumbled into Ianto's hair.

"Hmmm?"

"Alice – my baby - lives in the house with the blue guttering. I used to be able to see it from my window."

Ianto could picture the outside world beyond their window in his head, and knew that the houses Jack were talking about were only visible if you were lying on your stomach on the top bunk. He brought his hand up to squeeze the one Jack was resting on his chest.

"She's beautiful," Jack continued. "Really beautiful. She'll be twenty soon."

Ianto remained quiet, just listening. Jack sighed sleepily.

"She'll come and visit soon," he said, and Ianto could feel the lips touching his hair curve into a smile. "Night night, Ianto," Jack whispered.

"Night, Jack," Ianto whispered back.

"I … I'm glad I've got you," Jack admitted, even quieter.

"I'm glad I've got you, too," Ianto replied. "Now shut up and go to sleep before _you_start ovulating."

Jack laughed, quieted, gave him one last squeeze and finally let them fall asleep together. 


	9. Chapter 9

The sun was beating down rather uncomfortably, which was fantastic news for Ianto. Jack had taken his shirt off half an hour ago as they lay in the grass outside, and it was almost too difficult not to stare. He supposed he was fortunate that they were now lying down on their backs near the perimeter fence, unable to see each other as they watched the clouds go by.

At first they'd been cloud spotting, but then Owen had joined them and had a huff about Jack and Ianto's synchronised menstrual cycles, which served only to make them laugh. The huff had then turned into 'couples and their in-jokes', which was met by rather alarmed straight faces. Obtaining a reaction he was satisfied with, Owen had left feeling rather pleased with himself.

Jack and Ianto had been quiet since, watching the clouds moving by but keeping the shapes they saw to themselves.

"Jack?" Ianto asked eventually.

"Mmm?"

"Jack … Do you think I'm prison bent?"

Jack turned his head to frown at him before dropping his head back to stare at the sky. "I think only you know that," he settled on saying. "Does it matter?"

Sitting up, Ianto folded his legs into a cross-legged position and tried not to admire Jack's shirtless-ness too much. "I don't know if it matters," he admitted, "I just feel a bit … confused."

Jack heaved himself up to sit, too, drawing one knee up and throwing an arm around it. "What's to be confused about?" he asked, "At the end of the day people are still people; thinking on it too hard is just counter-productive. You like who you like, you love who you love: simple as. Anything else is just irrelevance – and possibly genitals."

"It's just … I've never liked a guy before," Ianto mumbled.

"So?" Jack shrugged, "You've liked a person before, so I honestly don't really see much difference. Now, if you suddenly decided a poodle looked shagalicious – _then_ we could have conversations about how confused and out-of-sorts you were feeling."

Ianto chuckled. "Yeah. I suppose you have a point." He figured it was better to say that than to press the subject with a '_well I don't have the benefit of being old enough to know who I am yet, so can I please be excused for being a little bit surprised?'_

Obviously, thoughts about Jack's life experience and where he drew his philosophies from led Ianto to thinking about how old Jack might be, which led him to thinking of the time he had drunkenly asked – which then led him to thinking about the sex they'd had a few minutes later, which then usually and ultimately led to a rather precarious trouser situation.

To make things worse, it started raining.

Jack tugged his shirt back on as they hurried inside, complaining about the paradoxical British weather as he did so. They found themselves pretty much at the back of the crowd trying to fight its way back inside the double doors of the wing, and the rain was picking up. By the time they were back to their cell, they were soaking and cold.

"I can't believe it," Jack grumbled, peering out of his window as rain fell down from the grey sky in sheets. "Twenty minutes ago it was blue skies and yellow sun – now look at it."

Ianto failed to be quite so surprised. He supposed he was just used to the unpredictability of the weather.

"It's practically a flash flood," Jack continued, "Look at it!"

Ianto glanced at the almost-shut cell door, then stood himself behind Jack, peeling a little sodden white cotton t-shirt up to trace fingers of over the wet, chilly skin. "Cold?" he asked.

Turning and taking Ianto's hands in his, Jack chuckled. "Don't get any ideas, Princess. Screws will be 'round with dry clothes far too soon."

"'Princess'?"

Jack grinned.

Ianto poked his bottom lip out, and Jack relented slightly and pressed a kiss to his mouth. He sat down heavily on his mattress, and Ianto tried not to sulk at the finality of 'a peck is all you're getting'. He sat down, too.

"I spy with my little eye," Jack began, "Something beginning with … 'I'."

Ianto swept his eyes over the cell. "Institutionalisation?" he guessed.

"Eh? No. It was 'Ianto'."

"Oh. Ha! My turn now? I spy with my little eye … something beginning with 'C'."

"Erm … cock?"

"No."

"Cock?"

"No."

"Cock?"

"Nope."

"Cock?"

"Nope."

"Cock?"

"No."

"Ceiling?"

"Yesss. Your turn."

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with … 'J'."

"Jack?"

"Yup!"

They chuckled, and Jack announced that he was bored. "When we get the dry clothes, we should go down to the gym."

"Yeah … Go fuck yourself."

"Oh, come on – you loved it."

"Even you're not that bad at reading people," Ianto huffed. They waited quietly for a bit, lost in their own thoughts, before Jack remembered something.

"We've still got some of Owen's hooch left," he grinned suggestively. "We could have some more tonight."

"Only if you don't force me into the gym," Ianto reasoned.

"Fine, fine. You can just do my counting for me, then."

They waited another half an hour, shivering into their cold clothes before deciding to take them off and put on their pyjamas as they waited. Finally, Andy Davidson arrived with dry things, taking their wet clothes and dumping them into a large bin on wheels being pushed by a very unhappy young Torchwood lad.

Changed, Jack marched Ianto down the empty gymnasium and started warm up stretches before making Ianto hold his feet for sit-ups.

"We could have done this in the cell," Ianto pointed out, counting the number of times Jack's head bobbed up near his. "That's twenty," he added, letting Jack know he was halfway done. They didn't speak for the rest of the exercise, and when Jack had finished Ianto had to make a great conscious effort not to squeal.

"Jack! What if someone comes in?" he demanded from where he was currently lying: underneath a hot, sweaty and panting Jack Harkness. Jack's mischievous grin remained in place as he rolled himself off, then trapped Ianto's feet with his hands.

"Do ten," he ordered, and Ianto tried to kick him off.

"Jack …"

"Ten," Jack repeated.

Ianto sighed and put his hands behind his head. With a great deal of struggling, he managed to pull himself up to do one.

"That was pitiful," Jack grimaced, "Do stomach crunches instead. We'll work up to sit-ups."

"Yes, yes – I'm massively unfit. I get it. Now let go of my feet."

Jack added more weight down onto Ianto's trainers, and Ianto couldn't help but think he looked slightly predatory.

"What are you planning?" Ianto asked with narrowed eyes. Jack glanced around the gym, then crawled closer to kiss Ianto's mouth.

"_No,_" Ianto chastised firmly, pushing him away. Jack laughed, backing off and returning to Ianto's feet.

"Relax," he coaxed, "... and do ten stomach crunches."

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "Give me an incentive," he said, raising his chin a little, defiant.

Jack hummed in thought, then glanced around them again to check they were definitely alone still. He leaned down and whispered something into Ianto's ear, and Ianto listened intently as his eyes drifted shut. "So …" he breathlessly replied, "... all I have to do is ten stomach crunches?"

With a glint in his eye, Jack innocently nodded.

* * *

Owen gave him an odd look as he wandered past with as much dignity as possible. Ianto just scowled at him, and Jack dawdled on behind looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Stopping him with a hand on his shoulder, Owen pulled Jack aside a little.

"Remember when you and John started having playtime together, and we had that long, long discussion about discretion?"

Jack beamed at him. "We went to the gym, Doctor Harper," he explained with relish.

Ianto had hung back to join them. "Fuck you," he growled at Jack. "I hate the fucking gym. I'm not doing it again."

With a laugh, Jack reached out to ruffle his hair, then thought better of it when he caught the look Ianto was shooting him. He masked the movement by pretending to bat a fly off Ianto's shoulder, instead.

Owen didn't keep them much longer, and as Jack and Ianto began the climb up the metal stairs to their cell, Ianto couldn't help but feel a burning sensation prickling on the back of his neck. He glanced up, wondering if maybe Owen was watching them with a suspicious gaze, but found only the back of his head.

The sensation was still there, and with a slight frown Ianto scanned the crowd as he climbed. It didn't take long to find who was watching him.

"Jack," he muttered as they reached the top of the stairs. "Jack … Sherman's watching us."

Jack turned, leaned on the railing and began searching for Evan Sherman. He found his eyes across the large room, and their gazes met. Jack's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Back in the cell, Ianto," he said quietly. "We'll just ignore him."

"I wish I could have a bath," Ianto grumbled, rubbing his aching arms.

"Showers tomorrow," Jack reminded him.

"I hate showers," scowled Ianto, "Especially here. I don't know what I'd do without you there with me."

"You'd probably be less worried someone's gonna fuck you under the spray," Jack grinned. Ianto punched his arm with all the strength he could muster – which wasn't really that much.

"_Ten_ stomach crunches, you promised," he sighed, "Why, oh why, did I believe you?" He sank down onto his mattress. "Do you think I'm too weedy or too fat or something?"

"Don't be stupid," Jack sighed, rolling his eyes in a gesture he'd probably learned from Ianto, "Exercise is fun, Ianto. It releases all sorts of happy hormones and endorphins."

"So does chocolate," Ianto pointed out, "And that doesn't leave me with sore limbs." He keeled over onto his side, curled up and folded his arms.

Jack put a hand on his head, stroking his hair soothingly in small circular motions. "What about sex?" he asked, "That's exercise you can be bothered with later, I hope?"

Ianto 'hmph'd in reply, batting away Jack's hand. "I'll fall asleep if you do that."

"Like a puppy?"

"Shut it, you."

Jack grinned down at him.

They were companionably quiet for a few minutes, thinking to themselves, when Jack's watch starting beeping. He tutted and switched it off, climbing to his feet. "I have an appointment," he told Ianto, "Go and play cards with Owen for a bit. I shan't be long."

"What appointment?" asked Ianto, "Who're you seeing?"

"What are you – my wife?" Jack asked jovially, though Ianto could tell he was deflecting. With a sigh Ianto dropped his head back onto the mattress again before forcing his over-cooked spaghetti limbs to co-operate with getting up and following Jack out and down to the main area to find Owen.

He caught up with Jack, accepting a friendly slap on the back of the shoulder when they parted ways. Surreptitiously, Ianto watched Jack walk toward Officer Gwen Cooper, have a hushed conversation then be cuffed and led out through the metal gates down the corridors to the visiting areas.

Ianto ignored it for now, bringing his attention back to Owen and the chess board he'd just produced. It was clearly home-made from whatever the good doctor had been able to get his hands on. The pawns were made from bottle caps, the castles were cut out from the base of plastic disposable juice cups and the kings were three smoked Silk Cut Superking cigarette butts.

Ianto beat Owen in three moves.

Owen stared at the board. "Huh?" he asked, confused.

"I moved this pawn, and you tried to mirror me, yeah? So I moved my bishop there, and checkmate."

"I know how you did it," Owen scowled, "I just can't believe I fell for it."

Ianto grinned. "Another game?"

"Sure," Owen shrugged.

It took Ianto thirty-seven moves this time, and he sat back a little smug. Owen narrowed his eyes. "How many moves ahead are you thinking?" he asked.

Ianto shrugged. "However many are necessary. How many are you thinking?"

"Thinking ahead? I don't _do_ thinking ahead. I just hope you don't take anything, _then_ think of one move."

"You're not gonna win anything playing like that," Ianto chuckled.

"Ahh – but Ianto, that's how pretty much everyone here plays."

"So?"

"Well … We could maybe … Have a tournament?" Owen suggested.

"What for?"

"If you win, you get cigarettes, right? Cigs are money, money is power. Split the winnings with me fifty fifty and we can rub Jack's face in it. He couldn't play chess to save his life."

"I dunno, Owen. I don't generally like being the centre of attention."

Their conversation clammed up when they felt another presence approaching them.

"All right here, boys?"

They both raised their eyes to Evan Sherman, and Ianto swallowed. Owen looked unperturbed, but was probably bricking it as much as Ianto.

"We're fine," Owen assured him, "So you can be on your way."

"Actually, I was hoping for a game," Evan pressed, indicating the chess board.

Ianto felt his nails digging into his palms. Owen kicked him under the table.

"We're not finished," Owen lied, "You can have it later."

"Looks like you're in checkmate to me, Dr. Harper," Sherman observed silkily, "How about I challenge your Little Fish here, since you seem completely inept. Thirty-six moves was it?"

Owen glared. "Thirty-_seven_."

Sherman shrugged, smirking and reaching for a chair to pull up on the same side as Ianto. "How about a nationals match?" he suggested, "Wales versus this prick."

His seat was far too close for Ianto's liking. Sherman's arm was draping over the back of Ianto's chair possessively, and Ianto could sense the eyes of others on them. He cleared his throat and tried to edge away, only to find a hand placed firmly on his thigh. "Running away are you?" asked Sherman.

Ianto had had enough. "I have to," he replied curtly, "I'm allergic to ugly."

He shoved Evan Sherman's hand from his leg and got up, resolutely heading for the other side of the main area with Owen hot on his heals cursing in cockney.

"You are going to get yourself _killed_," he hissed as they approached the TV area, "What the Hell were you thinking? I mean … seriously, Ianto – What. The. Fuck?"

Ianto put a hand on his forehead, only to have it batted away by Owen snapping, "Don't show weakness!"

"I couldn't help it," Ianto sighed, sitting on a seat in the corner, "Sometimes stuff just comes out of my mouth. I don't even think it – it just happens."

Owen breathed out heavily through his nose. "Well, it's out in the world now. You're going to have Hell to pay."

"Jack'll look out for me."

Owen laughed. "Is that the 'stuff comes out of my mouth that I don't think' rubbish again?"

Ianto shook his head, and Owen all but gaped at him. He snapped his mouth shut before Ianto turned to look at him and plastered a blank look over his face.

"What?" asked Ianto.

Owen shrugged. "Nothing."

Ianto groaned. "This isn't a really clichéd moment where you'll warn me off Jack and say it's not what I think it is, while I sit here adamant that I know what's best before you tell me it's fine, and I can do whatever I want, it's me that gets burnt, is it?"

"You missed off 'don't come crying to Owen'," Owen sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "You pretty much summed it up, though."

"He's different when we're alone," Ianto murmured, and Owen 'mmm'd. "He _is,"_ Ianto huffed.

"I agreed with you."

"You said 'mm', like … I dunno. Just stop it and leave me to my own self-destruction."

"Fine, fine," said Owen. He leaned back in his seat and scratched his forehead, surveying the room. "Well, at least nobody's coming over for the moment. That's not a particularly good sign, but we can wait it out."

"I'm so tired," Ianto complained weakly, "I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep."

A bell rang twice, and both Owen and Ianto raised their heads.

"Finally," Owen grumbled, "They've sorted this week's post. Coming?"

Ianto got up and followed him to the queue before it got too big. Finally at the front, he gave his name and the number of his cell and collected his and Jack's letters. He was also pleased to discover Rhiannon had sent a small parcel as well as a letter, and took everything up to his cell to read in peace.

The parcel contained some alcohol truffle chocolates and a pasta bracelet made by Mica, as well as one lone Ferrero Rocher. Ianto ate it while he opened his other letters – one from his lawyer assuring him that as soon as they were doing everything they could to arrange an appeal, one from Rhiannon, one from Mica and David and one from Lisa.

Ianto stared at the writing on the envelope. He'd recognise it anywhere in an instant.

He hadn't spoken to Lisa since he'd been arrested, and it was because of her he was in this mess. He bit his lip, tearing the purple envelope open and reading the neatly handwritten letter inside over a few times. Ianto felt elation bubbling up in his chest, colour most likely raising in his cheeks as his heart couldn't help but beat faster.

Lisa was coming to visit him.

She still cared.

Guiltily, he toyed with the wooden beads around his neck that Jack had given him.

It took him a moment to realise it, but the guilt centred more around what Jack would feel if he knew Ianto still liked Lisa and wanted to see her rather than how Lisa would feel knowing he was in the honeymoon period of a hopefully lengthy and sex-fuelled affair with his older male cell mate.

Checking his watch, Ianto saw that Jack had been gone for nearly two and a half hours. He tutted to himself, wondering what the hell was taking so long. He decided to go and see Owen in his cell. He'd gotten only one letter, so he was probably done by now.

Ianto found him sat on the lower bunk in his cell, staring at the floor with his hands tightly clasped and elbows resting on his knees.

"Knock, knock," Ianto called to alert him to his presence.

"Oh. Hi," Owen greeted him distractedly. He cleared his throat and dragged himself from wherever he'd been back to the present. "I got my grief counselling schedule," he told him quietly.

"Oh?"

"I'm too big a job for the on-site psychiatrist so they're dragging in someone from the outside. Doctor Sato, whoever he is."

"'Whomever'," Ianto corrected.

"Whatever. I'm not telling him my life story, or how my childhood went. He can go fuck himself."

"Yeah," Ianto agreed. He sat down next to Owen on the bunk and suggested they play cards. They started up a few games of Queenie and played until the signal for dinner went.

Ianto pressed his lips together. "Where's Jack?"

Owen shrugged, but Ianto noticed he was avoiding looking at Ianto as he did so.

"Owen … ?"

Owen shrugged again and then ignored the question. "I'm getting in the queue."

He started off, not caring whether or not Ianto was following him. They emerged onto the walkway, both peering over in interest when they realised something was going on downstairs. The stairs themselves were clogged with people avoiding the fighting in the middle of the floor that Owen and Ianto could only lean over the side of the walkway railing to see.

"Oh – for fuck's _sake,_" grumbled Owen, the mass of people standing between him and his dinner causing him great irritation. Ianto squinted to try and see who was fighting, sighing and losing interest when he recognised neither to be particularly notable inmates. A Torchwood lad and a middle-aged Saxon. Boring.

Guppy and Holroyd finally made an appearance, and after a swift dressing down the fighters were led off to isolation. The crowd began to migrate toward the serving hatches, and half way there Ianto just about managed to contain a jump of surprise when a hand landed heavily on his shoulder and made him hesitate a second. Jack appeared at his side, looking even more scruffy than usual and with a little bit of sweat still glistening on his skin.

"Where've you been?" asked Ianto, "And why are you stinking?"

"I went to the gym," Jack shrugged, his hand still on Ianto's shoulder.

"Again? You went this morning."

"I like the gym. I needed to think – and I knew it was the one place I wouldn't find you," Jack winked, squeezing his upper arm before finally letting his hand fall.

"Oh," Ianto replied, dejectedly.

"Don't be like that. It was meant as a compliment." Jack leaned in close. "You distract me from thinking," he muttered.

Ianto elbowed his ribs playfully. "You shouldn't say such things about Saxons, Jack" he said loudly with a smirk, and a few near them turned and gave Jack dirty looks. Jack grinned at them and began to veer himself and Ianto toward the front of the queue. Ianto managed to grab Owen's sleeve to get him to follow along, too.

They sat down at their table with their trays, and Ianto stared into his broth with a slightly green-tinged complexion. He pushed it around a little in his bowl, trying to muster up the courage to actually put it in his mouth.

As usual, flavour mattered not to the Captain, who had already swallowed about three quarters of his bowl. Owen seemed to be repeating the words 'you need nutrition to live' under his breath in between gulping down whatever was on his spoon as fast as he could.

Ianto took a deep breath, scooped some up with his spoon and began to move it toward his mouth.

"_Stop eating the broth!"_

Ianto gratefully dropped his spoon back into his bowl with a clatter as the shout rang out, and Owen did the same. Jack looked around, confused, his bowl pretty much clean.

Holroyd had Adam by the scruff of his neck, and he looked thoroughly pleased with himself. Guppy and Officer Williams were getting him cuffed so that they could drag him off to isolation while Holroyed glared on angrily.

Ianto leaned forward. "He must have tampered with the food," he murmured as everyone else was coming to the same conclusion. Ianto was thanking whatever might be up there that he hadn't touched a drop, then remembered that Jack had eaten his entire portion already.

Holroyd cleared her throat once Adam had been taken away. "There's laxatives in the first batch of broth," she informed them, "If you return your bowls to the kitchen, you can get some more – Unless you've eaten more than about half of it already, in which case I wouldn't suggest eating anything for a while."

Jack's lips were pressed together in a thin line. Ianto switched their bowls around in the commotion so that it looked like he'd eaten all the laxatives rather than Jack, and took the empty bowl back to the kitchen sheepishly. He could hear people chuckling and laughing at him as he did so and felt his face burn as he left the clearly empty bowl by the hatch.

Carefully not looking in Jack's direction, he dashed back up the stairs and into the cell. A few minutes later, Jack returned too.

"Why did you do that?" Jack asked, a slight frown creasing his brow.

Ianto shrugged. "You need to save face."

"They're all laughing at you."

"No different from when I was at school. I can live with it."

"You didn't have to, though."

"Better me than you," Ianto assured him.

"Thank you," Jack smiled softly, "Though … I have a feeling I'm in for a rough night."

"Would you rather I stayed at Owen's?" Ianto asked.

Jack stared at the floor, folding his arms over his chest. He nodded.

"I don't care, y'know?" Ianto told him, "I'd just want to look after you."

"_I_ care."

"Oh … Well … Okay."

Jack tensed a little further, then visibly forced himself to relax. He went to sit on his own mattress, picking up his pillow to hold it onto his stomach in an almost hug-like fashion. Ianto sat next to him, close enough for their bodies to touch and be comforting, but not overbearing or overtly obvious.

Jack cleared his throat as he stared at the opposite wall. "It'll probably take about an hour to come into effect," he said, "So if you could maybe think about being at Owen's before then …"

"Yeah," Ianto agreed, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them. He considered telling Jack about Lisa's letter, but decided against it for now. He fidgeted, and the silence yawned out between them and grew awkward as the seconds ticked on.

Ianto's eyes flicked over to the door to make sure it was pretty much shut, then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Jack's cheek. Jack chuckled, gently pushing him away. "Don't," he said, "Not now."

Ianto pouted and made a rather childish sound through his throat. He dipped his head and looked up at Jack through his eyelashes. Jack pushed his face away. "Don't you give me that look," he laughed, "It's the middle of the day."

"We could just make out," Ianto suggested, stretching to lie over Jack's knees like a cat.

"Mmmmm," Jack hummed as he put his hand through Ianto's hair and thought about it. "Maybe …" he smiled, leaning forward and pressing their lips together, kissing slowly. Ianto pulled back.

"Eugh – that broth was rank. I'm getting you some water."

He returned and straddled Jack's waist, holding out the glass and watching him drink it. Once it was emptied and set aside, he pressed their mouths together again. Jack's tongue was cold and made Ianto internally grimace a little, but in moments they were both becoming fevered and lustful, beginning to scrabble at the buttons on Ianto's boiler suit and push hands under each others' t-shirts.

They froze when someone behind them cleared their throat.

They turned their heads, finding Owen and a rather unsurprised looking Alex stood behind him, both with folded arms.

Jack cleared his throat as Ianto climbed off him. "Surprise?" he offered with a grin.

Alex sighed.

"We shouted you for the meeting," Owen told them amusedly, "But at least this explains your absence."

"Get your arses to my cell, lads," Alex tossed over his shoulder as he turned to head back himself.

"Oops," said Jack, "At least it was only you and Alex."

Owen tapped his foot. "Just get a move on. You're not the only one waiting for the laxatives to take effect, y'know," he said pointedly, then turned and left also.

Jack and Ianto pulled each other to their feet.

"What will Alex say?" asked Ianto quietly.

"I don't think he'll broadcast it," Jack assured him, "He probably already had an idea anyway. I think."

Ianto's eyes widened. "But … if he already had an idea, then who else did?"

Jack shrugged. "C'mon," he sighed, pulling Ianto along by the sleeve of his boiler suit.

"Am I invited again?"

"I don't see any reason why you wouldn't be."

They arrived in Alex's cell, and nobody seemed to be looking at them differently, so they assumed the positions they'd taken before. Jack was stood behind Alex's chair and Ianto was sat on the top bunk, remembering not to swing his legs in case he kicked somebody in the face.

Most of it was pretty boring 'administration' stuff – then Alex dropped the bomb shell.

The entire room seemed to take a simultaneous breath.

"_What?"_ the prisoner sat below Ianto demanded.

"This year, they want us to put on a pantomime," Alex repeated, "The official announcement hasn't been made yet, but they're definitely going ahead with it. I want you lot to all make sure you're involved – reorganisation, remember? We need to be in the good books."

"How do you mean, 'involved'?" asked somebody else.

"They'll want a cast, obviously," Alex informed them, "And somebody to write it, a director, lighting and sets and costumes and the such. It's obviously running in December, which only gives us five months to rehearse – but I'll be damned if the Saxons grab the brownie points first."

A large, burly man at the back reared his head. "I am _not_ dressing up in stupid costumes and prancing around the stage like a gayboy," he snapped.

Jack raised an eyebrow, and was about to say something when a murmur of agreement through the other prisoners made him think better of it. Ianto saw his hands clench behind his back though, and tried not to let his eyes linger on him too long.

Alex simply flicked his eyes over them all in frustration. "You can all work behind the scenes, then," he sighed, "Just bear in mind that Suzie Costello will most likely be playing the heroine, and whomever gets the lead gets to snog her."

There was a hush in the room, and Alex looked rather proud of himself. He sat back in his chair. "Just something for you to think about," he smiled, then moved on.

They spoke a little about Adam's stunt at dinner, and a few people threw some pitying looks in Ianto's direction. Colour rose in his cheeks and he tried to make himself as small as possible, wishing he could sink through the wall into the cell next door and make a run for it.

The conversation couldn't move on fast enough, and finally Alex was drawing to a close. Dismissed, they all filed out.

"Fucking pantomime," Owen grumbled as they left the cell, "I bet that was Cooper's idea. Cooper and Williams. I bet they brainstormed over wine trying to figure out the worst _possible_ thing they could make us do to gain brownie points while they pissed themselves into incontinence."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Never know – could be a laugh."

"Ohh yeah," Owen said, rolling his eyes, "I bet you're angling after the lead."

Jack said nothing, smirking to himself as they continued on. He entered the cell, then realised that Ianto was still behind him when he heard his voice.

"Who's Suzie Costello?" Ianto asked.

"Officer on B Wing," Jack explained. "Aren't you supposed to be at Owen's?"

"Oh – Yeah. Forgot about that."

"I didn't," Jack muttered, "So? Go on then." He pointed to the door.

Ianto followed his finger with his eyes. "Well … Okay … See you tomorrow, then?"

"See ya."

Ianto shuffled nervously on his feet a second. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"It's just a laxative, Ianto," Jack practically snapped, annoyed at him.

Ianto swallowed. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, then settled on squeezing Jack's upper arm comfortingly before hastily darting out.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

_Finally_.

He shut the door, and dropped his pants.

That felt _much_ better.

* * *

"Heya, Owen," Ianto greeted jovially, "Listen … Jack says I have to sleep here tonight."

"You can fuck right off," Owen told him with disdain, "I might have only had half the amount of broth, but I'm still gonna be on the crapper. You can go and share the experience with your boyfriend – no fucking way are you staying here."

"But-"

"Out."

"Owen-"

"Out, SilverFish," he pointed.

Ianto's mouth snapped shut at the name. He glared at Owen. "Don't call me that."

"What would you prefer? 'Eye-Candy'? 'Princess'? … 'Bitch'?"

"Fuck off, Owen."

"You fuck off," Owen snapped, and pointed to the door. "Go on – off you fuck."

Ianto glared at him and left, wondering where the Hell he was supposed to go now.

He supposed he might try and find some Torchwood lads who were about his age, but none of them seemed to be willing to let him into their cliques. He tried to catch a few eyes, but he just got a glance up and down and a turned back. He hung around near the television area, trying to make it look like he was waiting for someone, before sinking down to rest on his haunches.

How could he possibly feel so alone in a room full of people?

Ianto tried to remind himself that he wasn't a fifteen year old teenager with lots of angst, but fifteen for him wasn't really that long ago and he could remember how it felt – pretty similar to what he was feeling now, actually, just with less angry poetry.

He glanced around himself, trying to see if there was anyone else on their own and was unable to spot anyone. He sighed, and resigned to staring at the floor. What the Hell was he going to do?

He'd just made the decision to go and see Alex when a Saxon guy crouched down next to him.

"I'm Ross," he said without preamble, holding out his hand.

"Ianto," Ianto replied, warily shaking it.

"How're you feeling?"

It took a moment for it to register he was probably talking about spiked broth. "Erm … Didn't affect me," he shrugged, "Some people just … don't get affected by it."

Ross nodded. "So … What you on your own for?"

"I needed some space."

"Ah. Shall I leave you to your thoughts, then?"

Ianto knew he should probably say 'yes', but he couldn't help but be tempted by the offer of conversation and social interaction with someone that didn't see him as his best friend's nuisance who he had to put up with (Owen), or as simply an apparent convenience (Jack).

He swallowed. "You're all right. Maybe fresh company will do me good."

"Bored?"

"A bit, yeah."

"Yeah – I'm not supposed to talk to anyone other than people I know, either," Ross muttered conspiratorially, "But the same people just get so … repetitive, y'know? And everyone talks like they're above you."

Ianto chuckled. "Yeah," he agreed, "And when you do manage a normal conversation, you say something they don't like and pull rank."

"They send you out of the cell like an angry wife," joked Ross.

Ianto sniggered. _"That_ I can't argue with."

"Wait 'til you've been here a year. You'll be insane if you're still at the bottom. Widening our circles, that's what we need to do. Though I suppose that must be harder for you, with Harper and Harkness breathing down your neck twenty-four-seven and watching your every move like they're desperate for you to slip up."

Ianto shrugged. "They look out for me."

"Like over-bearing big brothers – over-bearing and interfering. Why should they be allowed to control every moment of your life? Why shouldn't you talk to others if you don't want to?"

"It's dangerous here," Ianto said, "They're making sure I'm safe."

"It's not _that_ dangerous. How long have you been on your own for now? How many body parts have you got left? Same as what you started with? Oh, so very, very dangerous this experience must have been," Ross chuckled. "It's as dangerous as you think it is. I learned that."

"I still feel safer with them around."

"Of course you do," replied Ross nonchalantly, "They've conditioned you to feel that way so that they can control you and you won't question it. Typical abusive relationship."

Ianto stared at Ross a second. "I shouldn't be talking to you," he said, and climbed to his feet.

"Wait," Ross called after him, "Look – I didn't mean it like that. It was a joke."

Ianto raised an accusatory eyebrow.

"Seriously. It was a joke. Maybe you just don't get my humour?" Ross tried.

Shaking his head, Ianto carried on.

"Look – Ianto." Ross made another attempt, grabbing his arm this time. "Can I give you just one bit of advice?"

Ianto inclined his head, if only to get it over and done with so he could carry on on his way to … wherever.

"There's a job opening in the cafeteria," Ross explained, "You should take it."

"What for?"

"Get you out more?" Ross shrugged, "It's only making tea and coffee and stuff, but it's something. Just … gives you a bit of space, yeah?"

Ianto considered it a moment. Having something to structure his time between meals and lock-in would be … refreshing. And familiar. And _organised. _

"I suppose I could think about it," he said, "Thanks, Ross. Nice talking to you."

He headed instinctively to the stairs, but was then cornered by a group of Torchwood men – not lads, men.

"What were you talking to him for?" one of them asked suspiciously.

"He came over and spoke to me."

"You spoke back," another pointed out.

"I shook him off," Ianto retorted.

"We should take him Alex," another suggested.

Ianto gaped at them. "I just _spoke_ to the guy. And he came up to _me_ first. I'm not a fucking child – back off."

He tried to push through them to get to the stairs.

"Watch your fucking mouth, boy," one of them growled by his ear, "We gave you a chance – you don't know what happens to those who betray us, do you?"

"I didn't betray a fucking thing," snapped Ianto, beginning to think Ross had spoken to him because he knew this would happen. He fought the urge to call for Jack or Owen or even Alex, before finally catching Officer Holroyd's eye pleadingly.

The sour-faced bitch didn't move.

"Fine," he grumbled, and offered out his wrists as though his inmates were going to cuff him, "Take me to your leader."

He was pretty much shoved up the stairs, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance. Eventually he had to remind them that he was pretty well aware where Alex's cell was – unlike them, he was invited to the meetings. He smirked to himself as one of them shoved him harder until he was outside Alex's door. With a big, meaty arm, a big one knocked on the door. Ianto folded his arms and raised his chin defiantly.

Alex pulled open his door, and his eyes flickered over Ianto and the men behind him. "Eh?"

"I was sat on my own," Ianto began before anyone else could, "And a Saxon offered me conversation. I was polite, but disengaged myself as quickly as possible. This lot seem to think I've committed a heinous crime. I fail to see how I'm to blame."

Alex thought for a moment. "Why were you on your own?" Alex asked, his eyes narrowing, "Where's Jack? And what about Owen?"

Ianto glanced over his shoulder at the gang of men around him and cleared his throat pointedly. He decided to steal Owen's line. "Go on then," he pointed, "Off you fuck."

Alex nodded his agreement with Ianto, and the men cracked their knuckles and migrated off, and Ianto entered Alex's cell. His cell mate was there, Tommy, sat on the lower bunk and reading a plain-covered hardback.

"Don't worry," Alex assured him, "Tommy won't hear anything you don't want him to." He pushed the metal door closed. "So – why were you on your own, Ianto?"

"The contamination in today's broth has affected both Jack and Owen," he explained, "Neither were too keen on my company."

"That's no excuse," scowled Alex, "Jack can grin at bear it. I'm sure you've seen him do much more embarrassing things than take a shit. You go back to your cell, tell him Alex says you're not allowed to leave. You take care of your Captain, and you make sure he takes care of you. Do _not_ wander about alone. Not yet."

Ianto took that as his dismissal, and returned to the corridor. He hung about a moment outside Alex's door to see if he could hear any snatched conversation and find out what Alex really thought.

"_Well?"_ Tommy had said.

"_Shagging like rabbits,"_ Alex replied. _"You don't breathe a word to a soul about it."_

"_Wouldn't dream of it,"_ Tommy insisted, _"Is Ianto happy with it?"_ he asked, almost edgily.

"_Judging from what I saw earlier."_

"_Good,"_ Tommy nodded, then paused. _"Alex … Would it be okay if I could talk to Ianto a bit more? He's only down the hall, and it'd be nice to speak to someone my own age … just … whenever, y'know. And I sort of know him."_

Alex made an affirmative sound. _"Just don't start shagging him. Jack _will_ kill you," _he joked.

Ianto felt a bubble well up inside. At least he might have one new friend. He wondered at what Ross had meant by 'abusive' as he walked the short distance back to his and Jack's cell. He decided Ross was chatting bullshit – he was just kept under a wing until he was savvy enough to get out there without being jumped on by anyone spoiling for a conflict.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the cell door. The buzzer sounded for the fifteen minute warning to be back in the cells as he did so, so knocked again just in case. No answer.

"I'm coming in, Jack," Ianto called, then counted down from three. He pushed the door open, instantly spotting Jack curled up in the corner of Ianto's mattress, hugging Ianto's pillow. His eyes were shut, and he was apparently asleep already.

Ianto gently shut the door, ignoring the faint smell hanging around the room. The half-pane was already open as far as it could go, and it wasn't that bad, so Ianto was used to it before his first minute in the room was up.

Jack was breathing deep and even, his face creaseless aside from the slight dimples in his cheeks as he smiled to himself. He was slightly flushed, and there was a little cold sweat on his brow, but his temperature seemed normal. Regretfully, Ianto shook Jack awake.

"Hmmmmph," he moaned, and prised an eye open. "Hello, Princess," he smiled.

"Stop calling me that," Ianto chastised with a pat on Jack's arm. "Quick wash and change: then you can go back to sleep," he promised.

Jack squinted at him. "What're you doing here? You're supposed to be with Owen."

"Owen wouldn't have me, I was in the main area on my own, I got talked at by the enemy, ganged up on by a pile of talking meat and taken up to Alex like a naughty child. He says I have to stay here. I _want_ to stay here. Your pride can grin and bear it."

Jack blinked. "Talked at by whom?"

"Ross," shrugged Ianto, "My age, dark hair. Pale."

"I know who you mean," Jack nodded, "They call him Greyhound. He's one of Saxon's favourites, but he should've been ours. What did he say?"

"Stuff," shrugged Ianto.

"And who made up this 'talking pile of meat'?"

"Bother about it tomorrow," Ianto insisted, "You need to get washed, pyjama'd and rested."

"Who was it, Ianto?"

"They were form Torchwood – I'll tell you more tomorrow."

Jack groaned. "Go away, Ianto," he whimpered, holding his stomach through the pillow he was hugging.

Ianto shook his head.

"Seriously – go away."

"I _can't_."

"Just give me a few minutes."

Ianto checked Jack's temperature with the back of his hand as best he could whilst Jack was trying to push it away. He'd gotten a fraction warmer. Ianto wondered if that was a normal side effect. "Are you all right?" Ianto asked, "Aside from the obvious."

"Sore throat," Jack complained, "and I was sick earlier. Maybe I'm allergic to whatever that bastard put in it."

"Do you vomit when you're allergic?" pondered Ianto, "I suppose if you've eaten something you're allergic to, it could act as an emetic. We could ask Owen."

"Leave Owen the fuck out of this," grizzled Jack, breathing deeply and uncurling himself to stand up.

"He's a _doctor,_" Ianto reminded him, "He might have an idea why it's affecting you like this."

"I think it might be the laxative, Doctor Jones."

"Laxatives make you need the loo, not vomit, tire and give you a sore throat."

"Allergic to the stuff, vomit, sore throat as a result of vomiting."

"You're croaking, though."

"I'm _fine._"

"I'm going to talk to Owen," Ianto told him decisively, "And when I get back, you need to be washed and changed. I'll even let you pretend I'm wearing a nurse's outfit. How's that?"

Jack was conflicted.

In the end he agreed.

Ianto hurried to Owen's cell, hearing the sounds of the officers working their way up the cells to lock them all in. He knocked loudly, and Owen called a very, _very_ pissed off 'come in'.

"Hey, Owen."

"What do you want? You've pissed me off enough today."

_Still on the low swing_, Ianto thought, and ignored him. "Jack's … experiencing odd symptoms. I think. He's vomiting, and he says he has a sore throat. And he's warm, and tired. Though he could be tired from two trips to the gym today."

Owen frowned at him for a long moment in silence. "I need to see him," he said, standing up and following Ianto out.

"Ohhhhh," Jack moaned, "What did you bring him here for?"

"He said he had to see you."

Jack sat patiently while Owen looked into his eyes and checked his pulse. "Too fast," he tutted. "How does your throat feel?"

"Sore."

"What sort of sore? I tickle, a dry sore, a burning sore, a barbed wire sore?"

"Burning."

"Abdominal pain?"

"Quite a bit."

"Vomiting and diarrhoea are a given, I suppose," he tutted. "Fuck. If this is what I think it is … That fucking_ bastard_."

"Harper!" snapped Guppy behind them, "Back to your cell."

"Harkness needs medical attention," he informed her, paying no attention to her ordering him about, "I'm guessing that whomever ate the first batch of broth this evening will need it too."

"It's just laxative," Jack murmured from his corner, hugging Ianto's pillow.

"Oh?" asked Guppy, eye brow clearly not believing Owen.

"Oh indeed," replied Owen grimly, "Mainly guesswork, but I'm guessing from both Jack's progressed symptoms due to greater consumption and my own … that it wasn't laxative that Adam spiked the broth with."

"What was it then?"

Owen grimaced, lowering his voice so that Jack wouldn't hear.

"I think he's poisoned us," he murmured, "and I can tell you how, too."

Ianto stared at Jack a second, flicked his eyes back to Owen, and felt himself go rigid.


End file.
